


Summer Haze

by ballsdeepinwinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU - everyone works at the same mall, Alternate Universe - 1970s, Angst, Angst and Humor, Closeted Character, Coming of Age, Dean POV, Dean is straight in this btw, Everyone is 17-22ish, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gay Castiel, Gay Sam, Growing Up, Humor, Jo POV, Lots of Smoking and Drinking, M/M, POV Alternating, Partying, Sam POV, Secret Relationship, Summer Love, There's just a lot of friends and a lot of good times to be had, and Cas POV at the end, brief alluding to unrequited dean/jo, brief dean/suzy, some f/m relationships alluded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 20:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6536077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballsdeepinwinchesters/pseuds/ballsdeepinwinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the last Saturday of the summer of 1979, highly regarded as the last chance to live it up for most of the young people of Lawrence, Kansas. They all just have to make it to quittin' time, and then they can let the good times roll. Some are ready to send the summer off with a bang, some are busy sneaking around behind everyone's backs, and some are just trying to make it through the next 24 hours. Whatever the case, it'll definitely be a night they'll remember- or not.</p>
<p>//Loosely based off of the prompt "Everyone works at the same mall AU."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Haze

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: If you don't like smoking, drugs, or drinking, this probably isn't for you. I just wanted to mention the story follows more than one character/one plot, so it's not all about a relationship. Anyways, I really immersed myself in the whole 1979 thing, so there's a lot of cultural references, and it's as close to authentic as possible. I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it, and kudos are always appreciated. ❤

**August 1979**

 

**8:30am**

It’s a great dream. Farrah Fawcett’s got her hands all over Dean’s chest, and Catherine Bach is straddling his lap in those denim Daisy Dukes of hers. Farrah wants to kiss him- begs him for it, even, but he bites his lip and shakes his head. “Her first,” he says. Farrah and Catherine smile at each other and back at him, and Dean just sits back and puts his hands behind his head to watch as they lean in closer. “ _ Oh yeah. _ ” It’s a great fucking dream.

The girls get so close their lips are brushing, and suddenly there’s this blaring beeping noise right in Dean’s ear. The beeping gets louder, and Dean’s dream fades away into blackness. “What the fuck,” Dean groans groggily into the pillow under his face. The beeping is still going on, and Dean lets out a helpless sob as he realizes it’s his alarm clock. He launches a hand over to the box to switch it off, and accidentally turns on the radio as a Bob Dylan song is ending. “Whatever,” he sighs sleepily. 

“ _ Goooood morning _ , _ Lawrence _ ,” the radio host’s voice bleeds from the bulky black box by Dean’s bed as the song fades away. Suddenly, Dean finds himself wishing he’d kissed Farrah Fawcett when he had the chance. “It’s gonna be a hot one today with temps in the mid-eighties, coolin’ down to a humid 76 at the lowest tonight. Clear skies, sunshine, and good tunes- kick off the last day of summer fun with us here at WKRP.”

The host’s voice fades into the opening riff of “Spirit in the Sky”, and Dean finally sits up in his bed. He puts his head in his hands and rubs the sleep from his eyes. Last Saturday of summer. Work is inevitably gonna be killer, but it’ll all be worth it once the clock struck five. Everyone’s sending the night off with a bang, getting together for one last bonfire, and it’s gonna be the night that gets them all through the upcoming semester. All of them except Dean, anyways. Dean doesn’t have classes to worry about.

Dean rubs a hand down his face and looks to the ashtray on his bedside table and retrieves the last of the joint and the book of matches. He sparks a match and lights the end of the joint, taking a deep drag from it. The heavy smoke fills his lungs, and he shakes the fire from the end of the match. He cranks up the radio and exhales the smoke from his lungs as he stands up to get ready for his bullshit job. 

Dean just pulls on the closest pair of discarded pants his feet can find, and blindly reaches for a work shirt he’d thrown aside yesterday. He takes a deep drag of the joint, relishing in that sweet, smoky taste of pot first thing in the morning that nothing else can really beat. Going into the kitchen, he doesn’t even bother to button up his pants or pull them all the way up his ass before he’s digging through the barren refrigerator for some eggs. He’s far too sleepy to really notice the faint rumbling of the car that’s been sitting outside of their house for a minute, but he does notice when the front door opens, and he turns around expectantly.

Sam doesn’t see him yet. He’s newly 17 and sprouted up to six feet tall over the summer; he’s awkward as hell and gangly because he’s not used to his limbs yet, so he trips over his own feet as he tries to sneak in the front door quietly. Dean raises an eyebrow and watches as Sam quietly curses himself and turns around just to get startled out of his skin and fall back against the door. “Jesus Christ, Dean,” Sam breathes with surprise.

Dean exhales some smoke and spits into the sink. “What’s with the sneaking?”

Sam clears his throat and shrugs nonchalantly, stepping further into the house. “I didn't want to wake you up,” he answers.

“Okay,” Dean accepts with minimal suspicion. Sam grabs a plastic cup and fills it up with tap water from the sink. “Wanna tell me where you were?”

Sam shuffles on his feet a little. “Just went on a run.” Sam drinks some more of his water. 

Dean looks him up and down, examining his little brother’s wrinkly tee shirt, hand-me-down jeans, and worn-down sneakers. “You went running in that?” Dean finishes off the joint in his hand and nods his head in Sam’s direction.

Sam looks down, apparently having forgotten what he was wearing. “Uh, y-yeah.” Sam shrugs again and runs a hand through the mop he calls his hair. “I need to do laundry.”

“Fair enough.” On second thought, Dean might've passed out relatively early last night, but he hadn't heard Sam come home from his friend’s house at any point. “I, uh- I thought you stayed at Brady’s last night.”

Sam swallows and nods quickly. “Of course, yeah.” Dean waits for Sam to elaborate, to explain why he came home at such an ungodly early hour, but Sam huffs an uneasy laugh. “Where else would I have been, Dean?”

Dean holds up his hands in defense. “Just trying to figure out why you came back so early. Why not just go straight to work from Brady’s? I'm sure his mom would've dropped you off, too.”

“I didn't have my uniform, Dean!” Sam almost snaps, staring daggers into the kitchen counter. Dean raises his eyebrows, not having enough energy to react more to his hormonal teenage brother’s angsty outburst. Sam swallows and finishes his water. “Sorry,” he adds, quieter.

Dean nods slowly and shrugs, not really finding it in himself to care about why his brother’s such a freak. “Eggs?” He offers as he retrieves a barely-clean pan from the pile of dishes outside of the sink. Sam nods quickly, which Dean returns with a single nod of his own. 

Sam fidgets with the hemline of his shirt before scratching his head. “I’m, uh-” Dean turns around from the stove to give Sam his attention. Sam just shakes his head and points down the hall. “I’m gonna-” Dean furrows his brow, and Sam just walks quickly down the hall towards his bedroom, momentarily tripping over a pile of laundry on the floor.

Dean shakes his head and disregards his brother’s weirdness. He’d been acting weirder since summer started, but Sam’s always been kind of a weird dude. Hell, maybe Dean’s just high and Sam’s not actually as much of a spaz as he seems lately. Dean doesn’t really care, though. Sam’s a good kid and definitely smarter than Dean was at his age- he wouldn’t do the same stupid shit Dean did as a teenager.

 

**9:00am**

Ellen made breakfast that morning before she left to run her morning errands, so Jo had food  _ and _ the house to herself when she rolled out of bed- well, to herself and Charlie, anyways. Jo grabs a plate of food and returns to her bedroom, plopping herself down on the floor beside her bed and tossing a biscuit over her shoulder for Charlie to catch. 

“I love your mom,” Charlie moans around a mouthful of food. Jo huffs a laugh as she bites into some eggs before putting the plate on the floor and pulling out a small box from its hiding space under her bed. “Remind me again why I don’t live here.”

“You’ve been here every day and every night for months,” Jo returns monotonously. “I think it’s safe to say you live here.” Charlie makes a conceding noise as she clambers off the bed and sits next to Jo, picking up the plate and picking food off of it. Wordlessly, she holds up a bite to feed Jo, who gladly accepts it.

Jo puts the box on her lap and opens it, noticing she’s down to her last rolled joint and only a few pinches of ground-up weed sit in the corner of the tin box. Jo sighs and picks up the joint, rolling it gently between her forefinger and her thumb thoughtfully. “Save it or smoke it? That is the question.” Charlie says, noticing Jo’s hesitation.

The girls look at each other, and it only takes a moment before their lips spread into grins. “Smoke it,” they say together with nods.

They weren’t usually the wake-and-bake types, but it  _ is _ the last full day of summer, afterall, so they might as well make the most of it. Jo lights the joint with a match and blows the fire out after exhaling the initial smoke from her lungs. Suddenly, there’s the sound of honking from a car outside, and Jo almost drops the joint onto the floor out of surprise. The honking continues, and Jo hands Charlie the paper before hurrying to look out the window. 

Ash is in his car and honking his horn like he’s got business doing that at nine in the damn morning. Jo opens the window and pokes her head outside. “What in the hell are you doing?” Jo calls out to him.

The mullet-topped boy gets out of his Camino and looks at her expectantly, opening his arms wide like she should know what he’s doing there. “We’re gonna be late,” he says when Jo makes no effort to say anything.

Jo groans and lets her head hang for a moment before sighing resolutely. “Ten minutes,” she tells him. Ash makes a rushing gesture, and Jo gets back into her room. “Come on,” she says with a sigh as she grabs her shorts and work shirt from the floor. “We don’t wanna keep  _ Paul McCartney  _ waiting long.”

Charlie snorts and puts out the joint on the side of the now-empty plate. “When is he gonna cut that mullet?” Charlie asks as she reaches for her uniform.

Jo rolls her eyes. “Never. He thinks they’re really gonna be a hit in the new decade- he wants to be ahead of the fad.”

“ _ Right _ ,” Charlie adds sarcastically.

The girls hurriedly put on their uniforms, brush their teeth and rush out the front door with their small purses slung over their shoulders. “It’s about time, man,” Ash says as they squeeze into the car with Jo in the middle seat. 

“Shut up and drive,” Jo mumbles with a shake of her head as she puts the joint back between her lips. Ash huffs a laugh and reaches over Jo’s thigh in the cramped space to turn up the radio, blasting the Aerosmith song from his speakers. 

“Hey, man, you think you can hook us up?” Charlie pipes up in Ash’s direction when Jo hands her the lit joint. “We’re low.”

“Depends on if I can get a bump of that,” Ash returns with a grin. Jo scoffs and takes a brief hit from the paper before handing it to the guy to her left. Ash grins wider and takes a generous drag. He sucks in the smoke and nods along to the song. “I think I can help out my best amigos,” he answers after blowing out the smoke. 

Jo uses the hair tie on her wrist to tie up her hair in a high bun as Ash reaches across her to hand the joint to Charlie. “Thanks, man, we really appreciate it. We can just go by your place after work tonight before the bonfire, yeah?” 

“You got it,” he returned easily as he turned into the mall parking lot. 

“Shit,” Jo spits when she looks down and realizes she forgot to wear her sheer pantyhose under her shorts. Charlie looks to her with concern as the car comes to a stop. “I forgot my hose.”

“Oh man,” Charlie voices from her side. “We have to work with Dick today, too.”

“Such a perv,” the girls gripe in unison. Jo shakes her head, trying to pretend like it doesn’t matter if their boss is going to be checking her out in Daisy Dukes all day. 

Jo takes the joint from Charlie and taps the ash off before inhaling the smoke. Charlie uses some bobby pins she had stored in her purse to pin up her short hair, and the three friends relax in the car to finish off the joint together. When the roach is spent, Ash tosses it out the window and the three of them climb out of the El Camino. “Time to kick today’s ass,” Charlie mumbles as they face the mall entrance. 

Jo links her arm with the other girl’s as they all walk inside. Ash nods in wordless goodbye when they part ways so he can head to maintenance to clock in for his shift of running the carousel, and the girls head towards the food court. As usual, Dean’s across the court unlocking the restaurant and looking like he barely managed to put his clothes on that morning. Charlie whistles loudly, getting his attention. “Hey, big boy!” Jo calls out to him, cupping her hands around her mouth. 

Dean turns his head and grins. “Ladies!” He greets them, unlocking the metal grille and pushing it up to open the restaurant. “You ready for tonight?”

Jo begins to unlock the ice cream shop’s security grille, and Charlie crowds by her side. “The better question is tonight ready for us,” Charlie returns, her words echoing across the empty court.

“I know I am,” Dean flirts with a cocky grin, gesturing to them with his arms open.

The girls laugh and work together to push up the grille. “Sweetheart, how many times do we have to tell you?” Jo teases him, swaying her hip to the side and bumping with Charlie’s intentionally. 

“You’re  _ so _ not ready,” Charlie finishes for her. The girls give him helpless shrugs, and Dean bites his bottom lip, feigning an expression like he’s torn up about it. The girls giggle as they make their way into the shop, and Dean sends them a wink before disappearing behind the kitchen doors across the way. 

Jo slings her arm over Charlie’s shoulder easily, feeling effortless from the drug that morning. “Feel that?” Charlie breathes in deeply and lets Jo play with the ends of her hair momentarily. The girls exchange a grin, and Jo hugs Charlie’s shoulders comfortably. “Feels like a good day.”

 

**10:45am**

“Two for  _ The Amityville Horror _ .” It’s not busy at the theater yet since they just opened, but there’s an early showing going on, and right now Sam’s helping a couple that walked up to the booth. The guy’s some enormous jock that would almost definitely push Sam into the lockers if they were in school together, and the girl on his arm is all legs and long hair, looking like she would model for Sears catalogs- and not the nighties or anything, like, she’d definitely be modeling the swimsuits. The couple can barely keep their mouths off of each other, and by no means do they seem to be detaching from the hip any time soon. It’s enough to make Sam want to hurl. 

The guy waves his hand in front of Sam to get his attention before he even realizes he’d drifted off like a spaz, and Sam clears his throat. “$2.50,” Sam returns. The guy hands him exact change, and Sam exchanges it for two tickets. “Enjoy your movie,” he tells them automatically.

The guy gives him a slight nod in thanks. “Popcorn or-” Before Brady can even get out his question, the customer is already tugging his pretty girlfriend by the waist towards the theater. “-Candy?” Brady mumbles disheartedly. He sighs and leans over the counter to watch the girl before she disappears around the dark corner. “Sam, did you  _ see _ that chick?”

Sam huffs a laugh and starts sweeping. “Yeah, I saw her.”

“Yeah, but did you  _ see _ her?” Brady whistles low and shakes his head appreciatively before turning his attention back to Sam. He notices the fact that Sam isn’t paying him or anyone else any attention and slaps Sam in the arm. “Don’t be such a geek, man. You know you’re gonna have to actually look at people tonight, right?”

Sam rolls his eyes and looks at his shorter, blonde friend from under his fringe. “It’s just a bonfire, man,” he returns simply.

“It’s not just a bonfire, Sam- it’s the last party of the summer.” Brady says it like it really is as important as he claims, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. Sam’s never been into the party scene, and truth be told he was only going because Brady wouldn’t shut up about it. “Picture it with me.” Brady puts his arm around Sam’s shoulders and drags him down a little to match his height- something Sam still isn’t used to since his growth spurt is still fresh. Brady puts his hand out in front of them to set the scene. “There’s gonna be beer, pot, and babes everywhere. Sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, man!” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “You’re totally buggin’,” Sam remarks with a chuckle as he tries to wiggle out of Brady’s grip, but Brady holds tight.

“Seriously! We’re gonna live it up. Come Monday, we’re gonna be seniors. Tonight will establish our status as  _ gods _ of LHS.”

“Gods?” Sam finally manages to get out of Brady’s arm and gives him a funny look. “Now I know you’re off your meds.”

“Come on, man,” Brady whines. “You seriously aren’t going to try to hook up with any chicks tonight?” Sam swallows and shifts on his feet before giving his friend a passive shrug. There are things about Sam that his friend doesn’t know- things even Dean doesn’t know. His silence on the subject matter is as close to the truth as they’ll ever get. Brady sighs at Sam’s apathy. “You’re no fun.”

Sam nods concedingly, as it wasn’t really something he was going to argue. A group of kids come up to the stand to buy tickets, and it’s Brady’s turn to help them, so Sam stands back. His gaze naturally slips over to where it usually does: across the hall to the bookstore. Sam swallows a little when his eyes land on the mess of dark brown hair that he’s maybe totally in love with. Cas is sitting behind the counter with his chin in his hand and a very pensive look on his face as he focuses on whatever it is he’s working on. One of his long fingers grazes over his lips and taps thoughtfully as he writes something down with his other hand, and Sam just watches him because he can’t even help it.

In short, Cas is perfect. He was one of Dean’s best friends when they were growing up, so he was around to see Sam as the scrawny wimp of a baby brother, but even back then, he was nice to Sam. Like a normal kid, Cas went away to college when he turned 18, and by the time he got back at the beginning of this summer, Sam had aged four years and shot up almost two whole feet taller. Cas had grown up, too; college did  _ wonders _ for him. He came back to Kansas City with a jawline that could cut glass, firm muscles from running for sport, and thighs that could probably kill Sam if he really wanted to do it- all of which made Sam realize very suddenly that there was an actual reason why he’d never had a girlfriend, and it wasn’t because he hit puberty late. It’s not just looks, though. Even Castiel’s mind is incredible. Sam found that out for himself at the beginning of summer, too. 

When Cas had gotten back from college, he took his old job at the bookstore in the mall, and wound up across the hall from the cinema- across the hall from Sam. Apparently Sam’s growth spurt made him almost unrecognizable because it took Cas a whole day of staring over at him from the other store to realize they knew each other. Cas met up with him to catch up, and it was kind of like pieces falling into place. 

They were kind of drawn to each other after that in some kind of natural magnetism. One of them always had some excuse to spend time around the other- Sam needed to buy this book or that one, Cas just really wanted to know what movies were playing that day, Cas would come over to hang out with Dean and Sam wouldn’t have anything better to do than hang out with them as well. It wasn’t until one night after work- one of them had the idea to go over to Castiel’s apartment to check out his extensive record collection- that all of Sam’s hopes were confirmed in one swift kiss.

Suddenly, Sam found himself with a secret boyfriend. 

He never would’ve thought in a million years this would be his life: sneaking out almost every night to sleep over with his  _ boyfriend _ \- his smart, sexy, older boyfriend. They spent their nights listening to records, reading books together, talking about anything and everything- their opinions and views on the world, hopes for the future, anything from the smallest subjects to the biggest- and admittedly, they spent a lot of time kissing. Cas is  _ really _ good at that. 

They’ve done things, of course, and despite coming close plenty of times, Sam and Castiel still haven’t gone all the way yet. Sam got eager sometimes and would get ahead of himself, but Cas kept telling him he wanted Sam’s first time to be special- he wanted  _ their _ first time to be special. He always said the words with so much sincerity behind those crazy blue eyes, it made Sam’s heart melt every time. And so they waited.

So, yeah, Sam’s totally in love with Castiel- but, seriously, who could blame him? 

Cas raises an eyebrow at whatever it is he just read, and shakes his head a little before closing his eyes. Sam watches as Cas sighs and scratches at his jaw, setting his pencil down. He rubs his eyes tiredly and somehow makes it look like art, and Sam sighs wistfully. Castiel opens his eyes and casually glances over to the cinema and meets Sam’s gaze, making Sam’s heart race like it always does despite the familiarity of those eyes. The corner of Cas’ lips twitch with a fond smile, and Sam meets it with his own. Cas’ smile deepens a little, and his eyes remain locked on Sam.

Knocking him out of their trance, Brady slaps him on the arm. Sam grunts and blinks a couple of times, shaking his daydream out of his head and returning to reality. “Did you hear me?” Brady inserts.

Sam clears his throat and finally turns away from the bookstore. “Uh- what?”

“I  _ said _ I’ve got a girl I want to introduce you to. She’ll be at the bonfire.”

“Yeah?” Sam responds despite his total lack of interest.

Brady nods confidently. “ _ So decent _ . Long blonde hair, and the cutest face. You’ll love her.”

Sam crosses his arms and relaxes against the counter. “If she’s so decent, why don’t  _ you _ date her?”

“Because I’m the best friend in the world,” Brady remarks with a cheesy grin.

Sam huffs and smirks at the shorter guy. “You mean she already turned you down?”

“That, too,” Brady admits with a half shrug. “She thinks you’re a fox, though. You’re totally in.” 

Sam nods to humor his friend even though he knows nothing is going to change between now and tonight. Sam’s still going to be hopelessly head over heels for the guy sitting behind the front counter of the bookstore twenty yards away from where he stands now. As if his eyes drift to where his thoughts go, he glances back over to Castiel and notices the way Cas’ eyes are subtly on him from behind a giant book. Sam looks away immediately, biting back a smile and definitely ignoring the way Cas’ head ducks behind his book to hide his own smile.

 

**11:30am**

“Double cheeseburger, two fries to go,” Dean calls out to Benny as he sticks the piece of paper to the order queue. Benny barely pays him any attention, just gives him a thumbs up before flipping a patty. The bigger guy repeats the order over his shoulder for Meg to hear since she’s on fryer duty. Dean quickly turns back around to the growing line of customers and takes off his hat enough to wipe the sweat from his forehead, pushing it back into his hairline. “What can I get ya?” He directs to the middle-aged dad at the front of the line with a nod of his head as he replaces his hat.

“‘What can I get ya?’” The man repeats incredulously. Dean raises an eyebrow at him, and the guy scoffs. “So much for customer service,” he mumbles sarcastically.

Dean bites back the growing urge to reach across the counter and knock the dude’s teeth out. Instead, he lets the years of working bullshit jobs in fast food and being talked down to manifest into the fakest smile he could possibly muster. He smiles tightly, gritting his teeth into a big smile, and tilts his head to the side. “How can I help you, sir?”

The man squints at him and pushes his tongue into the inside of his cheek, but his expression just makes Dean push harder and smile even more patronizingly, even going so far as to bat his eyelashes. “We’ll just take two number fives,” the customer finally settles on.

“And what can I get ya to drink, sugar?” Dean adds with another tilt of his head. The man reluctantly orders two colas, which Dean also writes down on the slip of paper before reaching to the side to pour the soda into cups. Another head tilt and innocent eyelash bat. “Is there  _ anything _ else I can do for you? Anything at all?”

“Just give me the total,” he answers bitterly.

“Two dollars and twenty-three cents,” Dean enunciates perkily. 

“ _ Two dollars? _ I thought it was a dollar fifty!” 

Dean tries to hold back the annoyed twitch in his right eye as his aggravation grows. “Because,  _ sir _ ,” he grits out, still trying to keep that fake smile on his face. “Our prices increased, and then the cost of tax. So the  _ total _ is $2.23.” Dean swallows and flares his nostrils before adding, “Sir.”

The man scoffs and his fat face turns red with  _ his _ aggravation, and by the looks of it, he might suffocate from the growing tightness of his stupid blue turtleneck around his neck. Dean’s pretty sure that if the turtleneck doesn’t strangle him, he just might be the one to do it. “Well, this is just outrageous. I’m not paying $2.23 for something I can get for a buck-fifty at McDonald’s.”

Dean licks his lips and balls his hands into fists, actively fighting the urge to let out his frustration on this stupid, fat Burt Reynolds wannabe. “Well then, I  _ guess _ they’ll be seeing you at McDonald’s,” Dean drawls out, his tone edging on threatening. The man scoffs again, skeptical at Dean’s words, so Dean shows him he’s serious by slowly tearing up his order ticket and maintaining eye contact with that tight smile. “Have a good day,” he barks with a cutesy nose scrunch. 

The man scoffs his way out of line, holding onto his wife and kid by the backs of their necks and shaking his head. Dean’s smile immediately goes away, turning into his usual scowl and clenching his jaw at the next customer. “What do you want?” He throws at her. The woman’s older and puts a hand over her chest at his attitude. She starts to say something about it, but Dean just closes his eyes. “Meg!” 

“What?” Meg calls back to him from the fryers. 

“You’re on counter,” Dean directs straight-forwardly as he moves away from the counter and back into the kitchen area. Meg holds out her hands questioningly, and Dean shrugs, tearing an apron down from the hanger and putting it on. “I can’t deal with them anymore.”

“And you think I can?” Meg spits out as she stares Dean down. She puts her hand on her hip and gestures with the utensil in her other hand. “Do I need to remind you of the incident that made Zachariah put me back here in the first place?”

Dean doesn’t really care that Meg almost lunged over the counter at some rich girl Meg’s age that smacked her gum too loudly and spoke with too much of an attitude for Meg to handle. Right now, Dean’s about to snap, so it’s her turn. “Do I need to remind you that I, uh, don’t care?” Dean takes the utensil from Meg’s hand and pushes her towards the front counter. “Shoo, shoo.” 

Meg mumbles under her breath bitterly and glares at him before turning around to help the customers, and Dean smiles to himself. “I wouldn’t push her too hard, brother,” Benny says to him with a laugh as he assembles a sandwich. Dean pushes some fries around and looks back at him expectantly. Benny raises his eyebrows and nods over to Meg. “Kitty’s got claws. She might scratch ya.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.” Benny makes an uncertain but accepting noise, and they get back to work. 

With no-nonsense Meg hustling through customers and sending orders back at breakneck speeds, Dean works up a heavy sweat in no time. He’s rushing back and forth between the fryer and expediting orders to send to the front, and a knot starts forming right in the middle of his back, and Dean’s about ready to snap again. 

“Come on, ladies! Move it!” Meg barks at them from over her shoulder.

“Bite me!” Dean calls back to her, realizing he’s burning some chicken tenders. “Goddamnit!” Dean hurriedly yanks the basket out of the fryer and puts the order together. 

Benny claps a big hand down on his shoulder and pulls him away from the fryers. “I got this. Go, uh… Go get me some burgers from the freezer.” Benny’s tone is calm, and the hand on his shoulder grounds him. Dean notices the look on Benny’s face and the wink he gives Dean before nodding towards the freezer. “Cool down a little. Alright?”

Dean takes a deep sigh and rolls his eyes. “You ain’t gotta tell me twice,” he mutters. Benny claps him on the back twice before taking over the fry station, and Dean checks the restaurant to make sure Zachariah still hasn’t come in yet before disappearing into the freezer.

The freezer is, well, freezing, and he shivers at the way the air makes the sweat on his skin grow cold immediately. It’s exactly what he needs, though, and he finds his skin cooling down to a normal temperature pretty quickly. He even takes off his hat and the cold wraps around his sweat-covered scalp in the best way. 

It only takes a few deep breaths before he notes maybe just standing in the freezer isn’t  _ exactly _ what he needs. Dean shrugs and takes out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and fishes one out, taking a moment to tap the rolled joint that also sits in the pack before skipping over it for a regular cigarette.

Dean relaxes against the racks and tries to strike a match on the bottom of his boot. It takes two tries from the air constantly fucking with the ability to make a fire, but he gets a match lit and brings it to his cigarette to light it before shaking the fire away. Dean takes a deep inhale of the cigarette smoke and lets his head fall back against the icy metal rack. He closes his eyes and blows the smoke out, filling the small freezer with tobacco smoke easily. 

Maybe he’s not the world’s best employee. Then again, it is just some bullshit fast food joint in a food court of a mall filled with dumbass kids and their dumbass parents. So, maybe he doesn’t really give a shit about being the world’s best employee. Dean’s just trying to not commit homicide every time a customer walks up to the counter.

 

**12:20pm**

As usual, when Sam’s break time rolls around, he goes to the food court because Dean always sneaks him some free food. Today, though, Cas is standing at the counter talking to Meg. And Meg’s putting it out there for him, too- tilting her head up at him and winking at something she said- Sam can’t hear them. Sam swallows back the jealousy swirling in his gut, and approaches the counter timidly. Meg spots him out of the corner of her eye and grins at him. “Hey, little Sammy,” she drawls out in her sweet, low voice.

Cas turns around and their eyes meet for a split second before Sam shyly casts his eyes down. He flips his hair out of his face and shoves his hands in his pockets before meeting Meg’s greeting. “You’re only a year older than me, Meg.” Sam approaches the counter and stands next to Cas, keeping a reasonable distance between them like they always do in public. Sam looks down at Meg and chuckles. “Plus, I’m a lot bigger than you.”

“Awww, come on,” Meg pouts. “You might be a Jolly Green Giant now, but I’ve known you since you were three feet tall. You’ll  _ always  _ be little Sammy.” She reaches up to mess with Sam’s hair and laughs when Sam huffs, batting her hand away. Meg finally gives and relaxes against the counter. “I was just trying to convince Cassie boy here to come to the party tonight.”

Sam finally looks to his side and meets Cas’ glance. “Oh yeah?” Sam brushes his hair back behind his ears.

Cas gives him an uncertain nod. “I haven’t decided,” he answers quietly. 

“Don’t be such a geek. Just come,” Meg inserts exasperatedly before Sam can respond. “Even Sam’s gonna be there. And you’re way cooler than Sam.”

“ _ Hey-! _ ”

“You’re going?” Cas asks him, brushing over Meg’s other comment.

Sam swallows and shrugs clumsily. “Brady’s kinda… He’s kinda dragging me along.” Cas nods a little. “You should go.”

“I should?” 

“ _ Yes _ ,” Meg groans, but Cas is looking at Sam for his answer.

Sam manages to lightly punch Cas in the shoulder as casually as he can. “Totally. It’ll be fun.” The corners of Cas’ lips tilt up into a small, fond smile as he keeps his eyes on Sam’s longer than they probably should.

“ _ Thank you _ . That’s what I’ve been telling him,” Meg voices. Dean appears from behind the kitchen area, and his presence makes Sam snap out of his transfixion on Cas’ eyes. “Hey, Deano, baby bro’s here for you.”

Dean tosses him a burger wrapped in aluminum foil, and Sam catches it before giving him a funny look. “Can’t I get a salad or something?”

“Sam.” Dean looks at him flatly and points to the menu. “Tell me where you see  _ salad _ on here.” Sam sighs and pretends he doesn’t turn red under his collar out of being embarrassed with Cas right next to him. “Shut up and eat your free burger.” Sam rolls his eyes and shuffles on his feet as Dean redirects his attention to his friend. “Hey, Cas. You comin’ to the bonfire tonight?”

“I’ll think about it,” Cas answers simply. Sam starts biting into his cheeseburger and absently wonders how long it was sitting out.

“Well, you should definitely come. Drink some beer, score some babes?” Dean offers with a grin. He slaps Cas in the chest suggestively. Cas and Sam both let out matching nervous laughs. “It’ll be sweet.” From behind them, Benny rings the bell for a completed order, and Dean picks up the bag before sliding it across the counter to Cas. “All set.” When Cas tries to take the bag, Dean holds onto it tighter. “So, you’ll go tonight?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I’ll think about it,” he repeats, looking at Dean sternly. Dean grins cockily and shrugs, letting Cas take his food. 

“Do you-” Sam starts saying to Cas before he catches himself. “Um… How much longer is your break?” 

Cas checks the watch on his wrist. “I have some time.” 

Sam silently tries to ask if he wants to eat together, and Cas nods towards a bench out of direct sight from the food court. “Thanks, Dean,” Sam calls over his shoulder towards his brother. Dean nods at him and waves before another customer wanders over to their counter, and Dean immediately disappears into the kitchen.

Silently, he and Cas make their way to the bench away from everyone else and sit next to each other- far enough to not be suspicious, but close enough for their knees to bump against each other. It sucks having to be like this in public when it’s completely different holed up in Castiel’s apartment. When they’re alone, they don’t have to step on eggshells or act awkward, they can be as close to each other as they want and look at each other however they want… Like a normal couple, not like a couple of prisoners trapped behind invisible bars.

“So…” Sam starts quietly, absently picking at the tinfoil in his hands. He watches as Cas discards his bag in the garbage can beside them and unwraps his own burger. “Meg’s still into you.”

Cas lets out a heavy breath through his nose as he chews his food. “Meg flirts with everyone,” Cas corrects him. “But yes, it seems she hasn’t quite caught on yet,” Cas adds with a small smile. He drops his voice low enough for only Sam to hear before adding, “Which, I suppose, means we’re doing a good job of hiding.”

Sam licks his bottom lip between his teeth and nods, staring down at his half-eaten burger. “What if…” His voice trails off, and he looks up at their surroundings, making sure they were out of earshot of everyone else. Sam sighs and looks back down. “Nevermind.”

“What is it, Sam?” Cas’ hand moves towards him hesitantly before resettling on his own lap, and Sam just wishes that they could just be  _ normal _ and his boyfriend could comfort him when they obviously both want it.

Sam fidgets and starts bouncing one of his knees uneasily. “It’s not fair,” he whispers.

Cas is quiet, and Sam finally looks up at him to see Cas’ eyes boring into his own hands. “I know,” he whispers back. Cas looks up to meet Sam’s eyes genuinely. They tell Sam everything he needs to know- they tell him that Cas feels his pain, and wishes things were different. 

“I just…” Sam balls his hand into a fist and clenches his teeth. “I just want to hold your hand, Cas,” Sam admits almost inaudibly. 

“Sam…” Cas starts. A couple of old ladies walk by them, not paying them any mind, but it still feels like they’re too close, talking too loudly. Both of them fidget uncomfortably until the ladies are out of earshot again. Castiel’s watch beeps quietly, and they both sigh. “I have to go.”

“I know.” Sam brushes his hair back behind his ear and balls up the rest of his cheeseburger back in the tin foil, having lost his appetite. The boys get up to throw away their trash at the same time, and their fingers meet briefly on the rim of the bin. Neither of them make any effort to move away, and the tips of Cas’ fingers subtly wrap over the tips of Sam’s, and Sam closes his eyes for a second. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” Cas mumbles just for him to hear. Sam nods, and just like that, their inadequate physical contact is over and Cas’ hand is gone. Sam slowly makes his way back to the movie theater across from the bookstore and tries not to look across the hall- because it would just be too hard to not cross the distance and wrap his arms around Cas like he’s aching to do right now.

 

**2:15pm**

As usual, the ice cream shop has been busy since they opened. It’s a hot, sunny summer day, and there’s two hot, young 18 year old girls in short shorts selling ice cream.  _ Obviously _ it’s going to be busy. 

Charlie and Jo don’t mind. They learned to embrace their magnetism and use it to their advantage a long time ago- mostly thanks to Jo because Charlie was a lost cause when they first started working together. She could barely stop talking about Star Wars long enough to realize people were actually checking her out until Jo made a point of letting her know. 

After that, they realized there was money to be made if they could play their cards right. That’s why every time they work together, they end up leaving with close to $100 in tips to split between them; and when their boss is also one of these pervy dudes checking them out, it’s safe to say they get to work together a lot.

There’s a good sized line in front of the counter, but none of them seem to be in too much of a rush to get their orders and leave. Naturally, their audience is mostly pizza-faced 16 year old boys whose hormones move faster than their parent’s hoopties could ever dream of and their gross dads. Whatever, though, money is money. 

The girls are dancing to that stupid song that’s  _ always _ fucking playing-  _ Good Times _ , as if the lyrics don’t make it obvious enough what the title is- and pretending it’s not the most annoying thing ever. Jo bobs her head and brings her hands up to snap as she twists her hips, wiggling in Charlie’s direction. Charlie giggles and rolls her body to match Jo’s dance, temporarily forgetting the chocolate ice cream she was just scooping.

Jo laughs and puts her hand on Charlie’s waist before moving back to where she was standing, smiling widely at the guy in front of her and still bobbing her head. “You want two scoops, sugar?” She asks him, and the guy practically drools at her voice. She tilts her head a little, twists her hip flirtatiously and waves the ice cream scoop full of a second scoop of ice cream. “It’s only a quarter more,” she adds in a sing-song voice. The guy swallows and nods like his head is about to fall off, and Jo smiles at him before adding the scoop on top. Jo hands him the ice cream cone with a wink, and the guy  _ almost _ drops it. Sometimes it’s really just too easy. 

The guy follows her to the register, where Jo presses a few buttons before giving him her best smile. “Okay, baby, that’ll be 75 cents.” The guy fumbles in his pocket for the money and hands her two crumpled up dollar bills. 

She makes the change and goes to hand him the money back when the poor thing finally manages to speak up. “Are you two lesbos for each other?” Is what the boy genius asks, and it almost makes Jo snort in a very unlady-like way.

Instead, she looks over at Charlie with a fond smile and tilts her head when Charlie blushes. “Char’s way too foxy for me,” Jo purrs. 

Charlie finishes making her ice cream cones for her order and gives Jo a playful look. “I always thought you were too hot for me,” Charlie returns, bumping her hip with Jo’s in a falsely shy way.

Jo puts her elbow up on Charlie’s shoulder and tilts her head, sighing loud enough for the guys to hear. “What do you think?” Jo directs to the customers who are busy gaping at them.

The boys stammer around answers that are mostly praising them for being totally hot, and the girls laugh. “Mm, well…” Charlie starts, still obviously staring at Jo’s lips before licking her own.

“You never know,” Jo finishes for her. She winks at Charlie before turning back to the boys who are reaching in their pockets clumsily and pulling out all of their dollar bills before stuffing them into the girls’ tip jar. “Aw, you boys are too sweet,” Jo tells them with her voice practically dripping honey, putting a hand on her chest.

“Come back any time,” Charlie mentions with her own grin. With dopey grins on their mouths, the boys finally walk away from the counter and bump into each other gracelessly, still trying to look back at the girls. Jo and Charlie give them matching tiny waves, and the boys almost run right into a column. “Oh my god,” Charlie mumbles with a laugh.

“I know.” Jo sighs and shakes her head. “Poor things.” The girls dance and play their way through the rest of the customers, racking up even more tips than usual- Jo knew it was going to be a good day- before Dick comes over.

“So, girls…” He starts, looking them down. If Jo wasn’t at work, she definitely would kick his ass, but she’s learned to keep her attitude down when she needs to. Her boss’ eyes land on her legs and stop. “You’re not wearing your hose today.”

“I know, I forgot them at home,” she answers, shaking her head meekly. “I’m such a space case sometimes. Am I in trouble, Mr. Roman?” Jo adds with innocent eyes.

“Of course not. And it’s Dick, remember?” Jo smiles and nods, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his grin. “I couldn’t help but overhear earlier. Are you two…” He looks between the girl and raises his eyebrows. “-An item?”

“I thought there was a rule against dating amongst the staff.” Charlie relaxes against the counter next to Jo and adds, “Rules are rules,” even though they both know damn well what he’s going to say to that.

Dick shrugs a little. “Who am I to tell two young women who they can and can’t be with, huh?” Jo glances over to Charlie because they can read each other’s minds, and neither of them can wait to turn their backs and gag. “Just, as your boss, I need to know anything going on, so if something does happen… You can tell me.”

Jo has a smartass comment about maybe they should get a raise in that case, but she’s cut off by the sound of shouting across the food court. Jo and Charlie both immediately turn around to see what’s going on.

“ _ Me? _ ” Dean yells skeptically at his manager. He points to a middle-aged guy standing across the counter with his arms crossed, yelling more things that Jo can’t quite make out. It’s his manager’s turn to shout this time, turning to the customer to possibly apologize and then immediately turning back to Dean and yelling some more. “You can’t fire me!” Dean shouts, and his face is turning so red, Jo can see it across the lobby.

“Uh oh,” Charlie mutters out of the corner of her mouth to Jo. 

His boss shakes his head and says something else, raises his hands to gesture like it’s not his decision, and that’s when Dean’s veins look like they’re about to burst. Dean takes his apron off in a huff, slams it on the counter, and does the same to his hat and name tag. Jo sees Dean’s manager’s mouth move even though she can’t hear anything, but Dean just storms off and flips him the bird. “Cram it up your ass!” And Jo  _ definitely  _ heard that.

“Dean!” Charlie calls out to him as he gets closer to them, busy storming out of the building. He glances in their direction and shakes his head dismissively, blowing right past them. “I wonder what that was about.”

“I have no idea,” Jo mumbles.

“Dean!” Someone else calls out, and it sounds like Sam’s voice. The girls poke their heads in that direction and see Sam rushing out of the theater and into the hall. “Dean!” Sam barks again, cupping his hands around his mouth, but Dean doesn’t turn around. Looking bewildered, Sam turns around and shakes his head. He meets Jo and Charlie’s eyes and looks at them like he’s lost. “What the hell just happened?”

 

**3:30pm**

The smoke filling the car is so dense, Dean can't even see out the windows clearly, but frankly he doesn't give two shits. He's sitting in the driver's seat of the Impala still in the mall parking lot, smoking out his frustration and blasting the radio at full volume. The song playing isn’t anything special, just a Cheap Trick single- not the good one- but Dean’s not even listening, so who cares?

Maybe he's throwing a fit, but he just lost his job and made a damn fool of himself in front of everyone, so he’s allowed to throw a tantrum. He didn't deserve that, and he didn't deserve to be fired. That  _ stupid  _ guy, that fucking asshole, found out when Zachariah would be coming into work just so he could come back and ruin Dean’s whole day. Somehow while he was gone, his fat neck had grown enough for that blue turtleneck to cut off circulation to his big, fat head if the color of his face and size of his forehead vein was anything to go by. As predicted, Zachariah immediately took the customer’s side, not even caring at all about Dean’s point of view. Things got heated, and next thing he knew, Dean was storming out of the mall.

Now here he is: relaxed with his legs spread wide and his head resting on the back of the seat, four cigarettes and half a joint’s worth of smoke clouding his air, and music rumbling his car with every bump of the bass. He didn't originally plan on smoking his joint he'd brought with him, but the cigarettes weren't cutting it, and he just wanted to relax before he pulled a muscle. It feels nice, relaxing out in broad daylight like this, not giving a fuck about the world around him. The buzz of the drug and gentle vibrations of the music is almost enough to pull him into a dream world.

That, however, is suddenly interrupted when there's a knocking on his window. Dean jerks to attention, joint falling out of his mouth and body spazzing out as he scrambles to hide everything. He squints, but can't see out the window clearly. Fearing it's the cops, he swallows and turns the music down before rolling down the window. As the smoke billows out into the free air, Dean can finally see that it's Cas standing next to his door and not the cops. His friend awkwardly bats the smoke out of his face, and Dean grins lazily at him. “I thought you were the fuzz,” he drawls out slowly, voice rough from chain smoking.

“And if I was?” Cas questions, raising an eyebrow at him.

Dean shrugs and takes another pull from the joint between his fingers. “Good thing you're not,” he settles on as he blows out the smoke a few moments later. Cas’ look is unamused, and Dean nods his head towards the passenger seat of the car in wordless invitation. Cas moves to the other side of the car and gets in, and Dean rolls his window back up. As Cas settles into his spot, Dean offers the joint towards him, and Cas shakes his head. “Suit yourself.”

There's a moment of silence, and Dean moves to turn the music back up before Cas clears his throat. “What happened?” He asks.

Dean sighs and retracts his hand from the radio, settling it back on his lap. “It's just been a shitty day, man,” he mumbles. He glances over to see the concerned look on his friend’s face, and he shrugs again. “Whatever.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really,” Dean admits. He hits the joint deeply, to the point where it's almost gone, and offers it to Cas again. “Last chance,” he says, still holding in the smoke. 

Cas’ face is still stern, but he gives in and hits the last of the joint, lips tight and fingertips trying to hold onto the end gently. Cas never was the most graceful smoker, but he was good company even if he decided not to participate. His presence mellowed Dean out with years of familiarity, so him being in the car with Dean now makes him feel better. 

“What are you doin’ out here?” Dean asks, looking up at the roof of his car. He lazily uses two fingers to trace around an old engraving before looking at Cas. “Hm?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Cas puts the dead roach in Dean’s ashtray and relaxes in his spot. Dean nods and lets his head relax again. “Have you reconsidered going to school?” Immediately, Dean tenses back up, and he makes no effort to respond. “You had a lot on your plate senior year- with the accident-”

“ _ Cas _ ,” Dean warns.

Cas stops talking, understanding why Dean doesn't want to talk about his parents’ accident. Dean closes his eyes and tries to enjoy the heavy buzz coursing through his system. “I only mean to say that maybe… Maybe this is a chance to do something more.” 

Dean sighs deeply and picks up his almost-empty pack of cigarettes from the middle seat, retrieving a cigarette for himself and extending the pack to Cas. Cas takes one for himself and holds it between his fingers, waiting while Dean strikes a match and lights his own cigarette first. Cas puts his cigarette between his lips and lets Dean use the match to light his before Dean shakes the fire out. 

“You and Sam…” Dean mumbles after a few minutes of silence. He shakes his head tiredly. He glances over to Cas, who has an uneasy look on his face. “Will either of y'all ever get off my ass about this?”

Cas lets out a faint, breathy laugh and taps the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray. “It's because we care about you.”

“Sometimes…” Dean takes a deep breath and draws from his cigarette. “Some of us aren't meant for more. Some of us are just…” Dean speaks almost too quietly to hear from the volume of the music, but he can tell Cas hears him. Dean purses his lips and sighs again. “Just burnouts that never leave their hometown.” 

“That doesn't have to be you, Dean.” Dean huffs a laugh and shakes his head, looking out the window. “You’ve just had a rough couple of years, and Sam… Sam’s got a bright future because of you-”

“Sam's got a bright future because he's a genius,” Dean corrects him.

“That's true, but without you being a rock for him, there's no knowing where he might've ended up.” Cas pauses, and Dean finishes his cigarette. He smashes the butt of it in the ashtray and twists it lazily, pushing it through the ash. “You're smart, too. You deserve a future, too.”

“Right,” Dean mutters with a sad smile on his lips. Dean stops toying with the cigarette butt and rubs a hand over his mouth thoughtfully. Another silence falls over them, filling the car with nothing but smoke and the sound of an Aerosmith song on the radio. Dean’s whole body feels heavy, and he thinks he could really go for a nap right about now, but thanks to Cas, his mind’s going to other places he’s too tired to think about. 

Dean glances at his friend from the corner of his eyes and sees Cas slowly letting out a breath of smoke, staring at the embers of his cigarette. Cas licks his lips uncertainly and twists the butt of the cigarette between two fingers, just staring at it deep in thought. Dean huffs a short laugh, a brief smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, and looks back up at the roof. “Thanks,” Dean finally says, voice quiet enough to not disrupt the comfort in the car. “You’re a good friend, man.” He can sense when Cas turns to look at him, and Dean glances back at him long enough to give him a genuine nod, which Cas returns with a small half-smile.

“I, um…” Cas starts uncertainly. Dean hums in response, and Cas takes his time coming up with what to say next. He finishes his cigarette and puts it out in the ashtray before fidgeting in the passenger seat. Dean looks back at Cas to figure out what he’s missing, and Cas clears his throat. “I…” 

“What’s up?”

Castiel opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but stares at Dean until the words die before they even get to his throat. Cas just closes his mouth tightly and shakes his head a little. “I have to get back inside.” 

Dean sighs and nods understandingly. “Wouldn’t want you getting fired, too.”

“Yes,” Cas adds quietly. With one hand on the door handle, Cas looks at Dean again. “Go home and get some sleep.”

After Dean gives Cas a single nod, Cas gets out of the car and walks back across the parking lot and to the mall’s entrance doors. It doesn’t take much convincing, Dean’s already feeling pretty close to passing out as it is. So he puts his car into drive and makes his way home, ready to sleep off the day’s shittiness and hopefully feel better by the time the bonfire starts.

 

**5:15pm**

Dean is such a jerk. Sam’s been sitting on the curb outside for almost an hour, waiting for Dean to come pick him up. Of course, though, Dean had to go and get himself fired, and  _ of course _ he had to throw a fit and leave. Even better, he had to leave and completely forget Sam.  _ Of course _ . Because Dean is a freakin’ jerk. 

Sam huffs and tightens his crossed arms across his stomach, curling in on himself when a slight breeze chills over his skin and gives him goosebumps. “Come on, Dean,” Sam whispers to himself, impatiently bouncing his legs. Five more minutes pass until Sam gives up on sitting outside and moves to go inside.

Turning around too suddenly, he almost runs right into Charlie. “Whoa!” Charlie squeaks, putting her hands up defensively. Sam hurriedly fixes himself and mutters apologies as Jo comes out of the doors to join them. “Why are you still here? Didn’t you get off, like, an hour ago?”

Sam huffs a humorless laugh. “ _ Yep _ ,” Sam enunciates with emphasis as he crosses his arms again. “Dean ditched me.”

The girls let out similar sounds of pity, and Sam absently wonders when they became so in-sync. Maybe they were always that way, but Sam didn’t notice until he started working at the mall since they were in the class ahead of him. “You can catch a ride with us,” Charlie offers kindly.

Jo nods along. “Yeah, man, Ash should be here any minute. I’m sure he won’t have a problem dropping you off,” she adds.

“Really?” Sam asks uncertainly, shifting on his heels. 

Jo nods and goes to get a cigarette from the purse slung across her hip. “Totally,” Charlie answers for her, giving Sam a big smile.

“Okay, maybe, yeah,” Sam replies. 

Jo puts the cigarette between her lips and holds it there while she tries to feel around for a lighter, her brows knit with concentration. “You guys got a light?” She asks, looking between them. Sam shakes his head no, and Charlie reaches into her own purse and pulls a lighter out for Jo. “That’s why I love you,” Jo mentions as she lights her cigarette. Sam laughs a little and watches the road to see the cars drive by. 

“Speaking of, do you know what happened with Dean?” Sam sighs and shakes his head at Charlie’s question. “It was quite a scene. I hope he’s okay.” Sam chews on the inside of his cheek and nods in agreement.

“Alright,” Jo says rather abruptly. She slings one arm over Charlie’s shoulder to prop herself up as she fixes her shoe with the hand still holding her cigarette. “I’ve been wondering, Sam. Why is it…” Jo mutters something as he fixes her shoe before standing upright, keeping her arm on Charlie’s shoulder. “-You’ve gone all summer without finding you a girlfriend?” Sam can feel a blush creeping up his chest, and he lets out a nervous laugh and looks down at his feet. Jo draws from her cigarette and hits him playfully with the back of her hand. “Come on, Sam, give me the skinny. What’s your deal?”

Sam shakes his head, still not sure of what to say. “There’s no deal,” he decides on, giving them a small smile. He shrugs a little at their skeptical responses. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I just haven’t-” The words get cut off in his throat when he sees Castiel coming outside. Sam doesn’t even know what he was going to say- that he hasn’t met anyone he was really interested in? Whatever he was going to say would’ve been a lie, so Sam just stops talking altogether.

Cas’ eyes finally find his, and he gives Sam a half smile that Sam returns with his own. “Who-” Charlie starts, confused. Both of the girls turn to see Cas walking up to their group, and they grin warmly at him. “Hey, Cas!”

“Hey, stud,” Jo greets him as Charlie pulls Cas in for a hug. As soon as Cas goes to open his mouth, a loud rumble of a car approaches and pulls up next to them. “Are you gonna be out tonight?”

The girls go to climb in the car, and Sam uncertainly just stands in place. “Maybe,” Cas answers. “We’ll see.” Cas licks his lips and eyes Sam as he shifts on his feet, not sure whether to go with the girls or stay with Cas, and waiting for some sort of direction. 

“Cas! Hey, man!” Ash calls from inside the car. Cas leans down to give him a wave and a polite smile. 

Ash and Castiel exchange some words as the girls climb in the car. “Can Sam catch a ride?” Charlie asks before closing the door.

“Sure thing.” Ash leans enough to look up at Sam and nods towards the bed of his Camino. “Hop in.”

“You need a ride home?” Cas pipes up, finally looking Sam dead on. 

“Yeah, Dean kind of ditched me,” Sam answers with a quiet laugh, scratching the back of his head.

“Ride with me.” Cas nods to Ash’s car. “I’m sure it’s more comfortable than the bed of a car.” Cas leans back down to add “No offense” for Ash’s benefit.

“None taken.”

Cas turns his attention back to Sam, and Sam nods. “Yeah, sounds good.” The boys exchange smiles that linger just on the side of too long, and Sam turns back to his other friends. “I’m gonna ride with Cas, guys. I’ll see you later?”

“For sure.”

“Check you later, dudes,” Ash calls out to them. 

The car peels out within moments, leaving Sam and Cas together on the sidewalk. “You know you could’ve asked me for a ride, Sam,” Cas mentions as they head towards his car in the parking lot. 

Like a natural pull, Sam gravitates towards Cas’ side and bumps into him as they walk together. “I know, but they offered just a few minutes before I saw you. No big deal.” 

Cas goes to the passenger side first, unlocking and opening the door for Sam. He waits for Sam to climb in before shutting it and going over to the driver’s side and getting in. “So, remember-” Before he can get whatever it was he was going to say out, Sam is leaning over and pressing his lips to Castiel’s. “Sam-” Cas’ voice is muffled as Sam tilts his head and kisses him deeper, craving as much of Cas as he can get. 

“It’s dark,” Sam whispers into the kiss, and Cas understands that means they can get away with this, even if only for a short while. He moves more comfortably and frames Cas’ face with his hands, and Cas sighs. Cas’ hands land on Sam’s hips and digs his fingertips into his sides. “I just- I need-” Cas nods and kisses Sam as deeply as Sam needs him to, running his hands up Sam’s back soothingly. Sam finally pulls back and rests his forehead against Cas’ as he catches his breath. “You smell like Dean,” Sam observes with a grin. 

Sam moves back to his seat and looks around them to make sure nobody was around as he puts his seatbelt on. “Yes, well, your brother has never been the best when dealing with change, but you know that.” 

Sam nods because he definitely does know that, and Cas starts driving out of the parking lot. As soon as they’re on the main road, Cas puts his hand out. Sam grins and interlaces their fingers together and rests them in the seat between them. “Did you find out what happened?”

“He didn’t want to talk about it,” Cas answers monotonously, giving Sam a pointed look.

“Naturally.”

“We’ll talk some sense into him eventually.” Cas’ thumb strokes over the back of Sam’s hand, and the gesture makes Sam feel a little better. “You haven’t told him about Stanford, have you?”

Cas knows the answer to that. Of course Sam hasn’t told Dean about his decision to apply to Stanford. It’s all the way across the country, and he’d be leaving the only family he has. Dean is the least flexible person Sam knows, and he definitely wouldn’t be happy that Sam would be leaving. Besides, it’s not even a sure thing, and there’s no point in getting Dean worked up over something that might not even happen. 

Sam puts their interlaced fingers in his lap and looks down at them, using his other hand to trace lightly over Cas’ knuckles. “You have to tell him sometime,” Cas says quietly.

“Can’t I just wait until  _ next  _ summer?” Sam gives Cas a hopeful smile, and Cas squints at him. Sam sighs with a small groan. “I know, I know. I’ll tell him.”

“Didn’t you order your application for early admission? Has it come in yet?” 

“Yeah, no, it still hasn’t come in. Should be any day now.”

Cas smiles a little and squeezes Sam’s hand. “You’re excited.” Sam nods even though it’s rhetorical. They’ve talked about this, about the future and all of Sam’s hopes, so Cas knows just how important this is to Sam. 

Castiel gently rubs the pad of his thumb on Sam’s knuckles as he pulls up to the house, away from the streetlight and out of direct vision from the front window. Sam checks around them just to make sure they're alone before turning back to Cas. “Thanks for the ride.” Cas yields with a nod, and Sam leans over to gently press their lips together. 

Cas parts his lips and tilts his chin before recapturing Sam’s lips again and brings one hand to gently caress his cheek. Sam makes a tiny hum and grins against his boyfriend’s lips. He feels Cas smile back, and Sam pecks his lips once more before pulling back and pressing his own lips together. Castiel has that subtle, fond look in his eye as he glosses over Sam’s face and uses one hand to brush the hair back over one of Sam’s ears. He doesn't say anything because he doesn't have to, and Sam reluctantly slides away and out of the car. 

 

**6:30pm**

“I told you I can just catch a ride with Dean,” Jo explains for what seems like the millionth time. Ash just isn't getting it. Sure, they've all got a slight buzz going on, but he must be some sort of bonehead for not listening to her. They're sitting in the Camino currently parked in Jo’s driveway, already done sorting through the grass the girls needed to buy for him back at his pad- and also already done testing it out a little. For quality assurance purposes, obviously. “Seriously, he's only a few blocks away.”

“It's no trouble, I can wait out here for you chicas to get ready,” Ash offers  _ again _ . 

This time, Charlie is the one who sighs. “We might be a while. You know how long it takes to look this good?” Charlie asks him rhetorically, pointing at Jo. Jo snorts and smacks her hand away, and Charlie smiles a little. 

“Dean might not be going out tonight. Remember what happened at work?”

Jo rolls her eyes and pats Ash on the cheek. “You worry too much, cuz.” Jo nods to the door for Charlie to get out, and the girls give Ash a last parting wave before going inside the house. 

Ellen’s still at the Roadhouse, much as she always is. After taking over running it by herself, she seems to be out of the house from as early as 8am until whenever- she was never home before 3am, though. To a normal teenager, obviously it’s great to not have your mom hanging around all the time, but Ellen’s actually really cool for a mom. Everyone thinks so. That’s why Charlie practically lives with Jo at this point. Ellen was always more than happy to take in the “strays” as she called them, and Charlie  _ adores _ Ellen. It’s pretty cute, honestly.

Out of habit, Charlie immediately kicks off her shoes at the front door and goes to the refrigerator for snacks. Jo goes straight for the record player and puts on their favorite Zeppelin album-  _ Led Zeppelin IV _ because it will  _ forever  _ go down in Rock God history, and you can quote Jo on that. 

She’s only slightly obsessed with Led Zeppelin- okay, majorly obsessed- and even though the magazines say they’re on a downward spiral, nothing can stop Jo’s determination to see them in concert next year. She’s dragging her redheaded companion along with her, too, because Charlie made her go see  _ Star Wars _ twelve times, and she  _ owes her this _ . Every dream Jo ever had, every dime she had saved just to buy their new albums- even before she had a job and had to save the pennies she found on the floor- every magazine article clipping and tee shirt she’s collected over the years will finally be coming to a head. November 1980: Chicago Stadium- the best day of her life, and it hasn’t even come yet. Just thinking about it gives Jo chills as she turns up the volume on the record player.

“Black Dog” bleeds from the speakers, and Jo shakes her head a little along with the beat as familiar as that of her own heart. Wordless aside from singing along to the album, the girls get ready in their favorite outfits: Jo in her tight, high-waisted blue jeans and black tube top, and Charlie in a rainbow turtleneck and denim overalls. They do each other’s hair, and as usual, Jo’s hair takes way too much teasing and hairspray to hold a curl that could rival the girls in magazines, and she just hopes that soon it’ll be fashionable to have long, flat hair again. She totally missed her prime by that trend dying a few years ago. Quite frankly, Farrah Fawcett can kiss Jo’s ass. Who the hell has hair that perfect anyways?

After giving each other and themselves a few too many once-overs to really be called “once-overs,” they’re ready and heading out the door to walk down the sidewalk in their sandal heels that catch a little in the cement cracks occasionally and make them trip up. The walk to the Winchester boys’ house is as short as it’s always been, and Jo’s only on her third cigarette of the night by the time they end up at their destination. 

Immediately, she can hear something going on inside. The walls aren’t incredibly thick, so the shouting from inside can still be heard from the yard even if it is muffled. The girls exchange curious looks and creep up to the door a little more hesitantly than before. “-Think I’m an idiot?” And that’s definitely Dean’s voice.

Charlie lifts her hand up to knock on the door, but Jo catches her by the wrist and shakes her head silently, telling Charlie to be quiet and listen with hand gestures. Jo can tell Sam’s talking, but he’s quieter and his words don’t come across clearly from the other side of the door. Dean’s tone quietens, but he sounds mocking.

“We should really-” Charlie starts in a whisper.

Jo gives her a pointed look and stomps her heel a little, wanting to hear the conversation. Nosy runs in the family, and she’s not ashamed of that. Charlie sighs, but gives in and leans in closer to the door so they’re both practically pressed up against it to listen. 

“Bullshit!” Dean’s bark is so sudden, Charlie and Jo actually flinch. “You weren’t going to even tell me, were you? You were just-”

“I was going to tell you, Dean!” Sam finally shouts back, cutting him off. The boys start yelling over each other, and Jo gets a little lost in the subject, even though she’s pressed right up against the door. 

Charlie’s eyes widen and she tugs on Jo’s wrist a little, nodding her head in the direction of the road. “What?” Jo mouths silently.

Charlie nods pointedly again. “We shouldn’t be here,” she whispers. “This is totes an invasion of privacy.” 

Jo rolls her eyes and concedes anyways- mostly because she doesn’t really know what lie she’d come up with when the door would inevitably fly open and send her crashing inside, partially because she knows Charlie is right. Whatever they’re fighting about sounds really bad and really personal. Charlie takes Jo’s hand in hers and pulls her down the sidewalk in the direction of Benny’s apartment- just a few more blocks away- where people are guaranteed to be less hostile.

 

**7:00pm**

The house has been hauntingly silent for a long time- compared to the duration of the silences during their shouting contest, anyways. Dean’s sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, arms propped up on his knees and digging the heels of his hand into his eyelids. Sam’s standing across from him with his back against the counter, arms crossed like he has any goddamn right to be upset right now, but silent as he waits for Dean to speak first.

Dean doesn’t even know what to say anymore. He’d come home and checked the mail, finding this big, white envelope with a giant, mocking return address.

 

**Stanford University**

Office of Undergraduate Admissions

355 Galvez St

Stanford, CA 94305

 

Dean has it memorized already, having reread it over and over again in disbelief. The words practically take up the whole goddamn envelope, just bright, blinking neon signs that scream “As far from Dean as possible” right in his face. It hurts way worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined. He hadn’t even thought of Sam leaving him before seeing this. He’s barely a senior, and that means Stanford is Sam’s first choice. Sam’s  _ first choice _ is on the other side of the fucking country- literally as far from Dean as humanly possible.

He isn’t that big of a failure as a guardian, is he? Ever since their parents died a few years ago, Dean’s been the head of the house. He might be a burn out, a dropout, and he might have a dead end job at the mall of all places- or,  _ had _ , anyways- and their house might be a shit storm of dirty laundry and old pizza boxes... But damnit, Dean always puts food on the table no matter what, and Sam still hasn’t wound up in a ditch, so he must be doing something right. Hell, he ended up well-enough-to-do that he has the opportunity to go to an Ivy League college. So, obviously Dean isn’t so horrible… Is he?

“Dean-”

“Don’t, Sam,” Dean cuts his brother off quickly. Dean takes a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes a little harder. “Just don’t.”

Sam, of course, is a pain in the ass and keeps pressing on. “I was going to tell you, I promise. It’s just…” Dean looks up with an unamused look, to meet Sam’s eyes and challenge whatever it is he’s about to say. Sam just shakes his head dumbly, his mouth opening and closing tightly. Sam shrugs his shoulders, looking like he’s three feet tall and not taller than Dean already. “It’s not a sure thing, and I didn’t want to bring it up unless I knew for sure,” he finishes quietly. 

Sam looks down and swallows before looking back up at Dean with those stupid Bambi eyes that only annoying, pain-in-the-ass baby brothers have, and that just pushes Dean past the breaking point. “Y’know what, I can’t do this.” Dean gets up from the table, blowing right past Sam and into his bedroom. 

“ _ Dean _ -!” Sam follows him and hovers at the doorway of his room while Dean throws dirty clothes around, looking for his dad’s old leather jacket. “It’s hot out, you don’t need a jacket,” Sam mentions quietly, but Dean ignores him. “Dean, we need to talk about-”

“Just shut the hell up, Sam!” Dean barks, not turning around from his current position hovered over his overflowing laundry basket. “Just…” Dean clenches his jaw and shakes his head, closing his eyes for a second. “Shut the  _ hell up _ .” 

Sam listens for once in his goddamn life, and stands in the doorway, silent and brooding like the moody teenager he is. Dean finally finds the jacket and grabs it before shouldering right past Sam in the doorway, knocking his not-so-little brother back because he was too stubborn to move out of Dean’s way. “D-”

“You’re grounded,” Dean cuts him off again. Sam makes some choked-off, objecting noise and gives Dean an incredulous look. Dean shakes his head and puts the jacket on in the doorway. “You might  _ run off _ to California, just so damn eager to get the hell away from me already, right?” The look in Sam’s eyes is obviously full of hurt, but he doesn’t deserve to feel hurt. Dean’s the one who’s being left in the dust here. “Don’t wait up.” Without sparing another glance, Dean’s out the door and slamming it behind himself. 

Sam doesn’t chase him, and that shouldn’t really surprise Dean given the current situation. Maybe Dean’s in the mood to fight- even if he doesn’t want to be- he can’t help but wish Sam would just come outside and have it out with him. Old school bare-knuckle brawling, last one left standing wins- inevitably, Dean, which would mean Sam would have to stay. 

Dean takes a deep sigh from the driver’s seat of the Impala, knowing damn well his train of thought is fruitless. Even if Sam did come outside and exchange some punches with Dean, that wouldn’t make him stay. Dean’s going to be left alone whether he likes it or not. With a wave of determination, driven by the urge to get this  _ shitty fucking day _ off his mind, he throws the car into reverse and backs out of the driveway, throws it into drive and peels down the quiet neighborhood road.

First thing he does is blast the radio- that’ll wash out his thoughts, even if it’s some  _ ridiculously  _ overplayed song by Kiss. Next thing he does is recklessly try to search his car for a pack of cigarettes. Nothing in the glove compartment, nothing smushed between the seats, nothing on the floor- not that Dean didn’t try shaking every single discarded pack down there because you’re damn right he did. When his efforts prove to be once again in vain, he just stomps on the gas and practically misses Benny’s apartment. His tires screech to a halt in front and he lays a strong hand firmly on the horn, sending a loud, continuous honk into the night air. 

Dean sucks on his teeth impatiently and presses his hand down a few more times, probably disrupting a lot of family dinners the neighbors must be having, but fuck them anyways. His honking is finally interrupted when his friends come bounding out the door- Benny, a giant bear of a guy, first, followed then by their younger and much smaller cohorts, Charlie and Jo, and rounding it up in the back is  Ash.

Ash slaps Dean’s extended palm of his hand from outside the window as he passes, heading for the seat behind him. The girls get into the backseat through the other door, Jo taking her usual middle seat, and Benny taking shotgun. “Alright, fuckers, I know one of you has a smoke,” Dean says, foregoing any formalities and extending his hand in gesture.

“Hello to you, too, sugar,” Benny drawls out sarcastically. Dean gives him a flat look, and Benny just smirks.

“Please, God, just take it,” Jo insists as she smacks a cigarette and her lighter in his palm. 

Dean immediately puts the cigarette between his lips and lights it, tossing the lighter over his shoulder to her when he’s done with it. “How are you doing, Dean?” Charlie pipes up from the backseat as they take off, tires making skid marks as they peel out. 

Dean take a deep draw from the cigarette and slowly blows it out the corner of his mouth. “Let’s just say I don’t wanna talk about it, and leave it at that,” he answers simply.

“Got it,” Charlie mumbles rhetorically. “Yo, is anyone else  _ starving _ ?”

All of the other four people in the car let out matching groans of agreeance and call out “Totally,” “I could eat,” “ _ So  _ hungry,” and “Oh my  _ God _ , yes.”

 

**8:45pm**

Dean had reacted to the news of Stanford exactly the way Sam knew he would. He took everything the wrong way; he chose to take it as a personal offense instead of seeing how amazing of an opportunity it is for Sam. For Dean to think Sam wanted to leave  _ him _ kind of hurt Sam’s feelings. The decision had nothing to do with Dean- it’s what’s best for Sam. Sam needs to get out on his own, do new things in new places with new people. He’ll never amount to anything if he gets stuck in Kansas, but of course when he’d said that, Dean heard that as Sam calling him a failure, which led to more fighting.

Now, though, Sam’s sitting on the threadbare loveseat in their living room, playing the Atari and wondering how he’s supposed to fix things with Dean while also managing to get the hell out of Kansas. Before long, there’s a quick double-knock on the front door, followed directly by Brady popping his head in. “Hey, man,” Sam greets with a nod, turning his attention back to the game.

“‘Hey, man’?” Brady repeats, stepping in the house fully. The boys exchange curious looks and Brady shakes his head dumbly. “Come on, let’s go.”

Sam sighs with his lips pressed into a tight, straight line. “I’m grounded.”

Brady actually laughs out loud at that. “No, you’re not. Come on.” Sam gives him a serious look. “Dean really grounded you?  _ Tonight _ ?”

“Yep.”

Brady hesitates for a moment before he claps Sam on the shoulders. “Nope, you’re comin’ with me.” Brady practically manhandles Sam off the couch and pushes him by the shoulders down the hallway.

“But-”

“No buts.” Brady pushes Sam through his bedroom doorway and shuts the door behind him. “You don’t come out until you’re ready to go.”

Sam doesn’t argue because there’s no point; Brady’s stubborn and won’t be taking no for an answer any time soon. Sam reluctantly puts one of his plaid button-up shirts on over his tee shirt and slides on his worn-in high tops. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror, Sam takes the time to fluff up his hair with his fingers, shaking it out for more volume and using his fingertips to perfect it. Feeling ready as he’s going to be, he opens the door and comes out of the room.

Brady already settled himself in front of the video game he made Sam abandon, but turns it off when he hears Sam approaching. “That’s more like it,” he says with a big grin when he sees Sam. “Let’s boogie on out of here.”

Sam rolls his eyes as he follows his blonde friend out the door. When there’s no car parked outside, Sam sighs. “Dude, your mom didn’t let you have the bimmer tonight?”

“Hey,” Brady starts defensively. “Your brother grounded you. I don’t wanna hear it.” Sam concedes silently and shoves his hands in his pockets as they walk down the street. Brady does what he does best and fills the silence with his own conversation, not worrying about when Sam doesn’t always respond, too far in his own mind to pay Brady much attention.

Sam isn’t sure when he started withdrawing from everyone, but he’s very aware of it in the current moment. He’s supposed to have fun tonight, enjoy time with his friends at a party, but all he wants to do is go home, call Cas and ask him to come over and just hang out all night. He knows even if he  _ did _ do that, Cas wouldn’t risk staying late. They very rarely- like, maybe once or twice over the whole summer- go to Sam’s house when Dean’s gone. They always sneak Sam off to Castiel’s apartment because that’s where they’re safe. Life kinda sucks when you have to hide ninety-percent of your life from everyone.

The boys end up at the local diner and wave to the waitresses before sliding into a booth off to the side of the restaurant. Brady lounges comfortably, arms spread across the back of the booth. “So, this girl I’m going to introduce you to-”

“You’re still on that?” Sam interrupts tiredly.

“Yes, I’m still ‘ _ on that _ ’. And you'd wanna be too, if you saw Jess,” Brady added with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

Sam scoffs inwardly because he could probably come up with the reasonable argument of his homosexuality that would prove Brady wrong, but luckily the waitress comes over to take their order before Sam can make the mistake of spilling his secret.

“Coffee,  _ full caf’ _ ,” Brady requests, trying to seem a lot cooler than he really is. Full of rich-kid-arrogance, he even winks at the waitress- a woman in her mid-40s if Sam were to guess- and she gave Brady absolutely no reaction to work with in return. A little deflated, he also orders a stack of pancakes.

“Just a grilled cheese?” Sam orders when it's his turn. The waitress nods and writes it down on a pad. “And a water. Thank you.”

When the waitress leaves to holler their order to her line cook, Sam figures he’s in the clear of the whole ‘Jess’ conversation. He can deal with the real situation when they inevitably come to it, but until then, he's going to sit here and pretend like the conversation never happened.

“Okay, man, are you seriously going to be like this tonight?” 

Sam sets his lips tight and feigns nonchalance. “Like what?” He asks as he sips his water.

“I figured maybe you were just going through some shit at home, and that was the reason you've been acting so weird for the last two months-” Sam looks down and watches Brady dump packs of sugar and creamer into his cup, not wanting to make eye contact. “-I mean, hell, it's not like you two are the most well-off in town, so I don't know if maybe it was money problems, or-”

“We're not having money problems.”

“Whatever the case-” He asides the comment with a wave of his hand. Brady finishes stirring his cup and takes a sip from it. “I figured at least tonight maybe you'd let loose. Have some fun. Forget about it.”

Sam wants to tell Brady that it's not necessarily a bad thing, what he's “going through;” it's not bad to have feelings for someone as great as Cas. Not bad at all. He wants to tell him that it's just the fact that he has a 22 year old  _ boyfriend _ \- who is best friends with his brother, at that- and he wants to say that the only reason why he's been acting so withdrawn is because he's terrified to the core of what someone will do when they find out. It's not exactly the best of times for guys like him- then again, it's not the worst of times either.

He wants to say all those things, but of course, he doesn't. “I suppose I can try a little harder,” is what Sam does say. 

Brady grins bright and toothy at his words. “Good! That's what I like to hear!” Brady keeps grinning while sipping more of his coffee, and the waitress brings over their food. “Thank  _ you, ma'am! _ ”

The waitress gives Brady’s enthusiasm a curious expression before turning away without another word. “Cool it on the coffee,” Sam suggests.

“No can do, Sam, my man,” Brady returns as he cuts into his pancakes. He looks at the bite longingly for all of two seconds before shoving it into his mouth. Sam huffs a laugh to himself and shakes his head. “Did you check my new kicks?”

“You bought new shoes  _ just _ for tonight?” Sam asks incredulously as he looks under the table at Brady’s shiny brown leather pointed-toe shoes. He nods inwardly, recognizing they must be expensive. “Or should I say,  _ your parents _ bought you new shoes for tonight?”

Brady gives him a distasteful, mocking look and Sam smiles to himself as he takes a bite of his sandwich. “They made me promise not to wear them until school on Monday.”

“ _ Ooh _ , scandal,” Sam mentions sarcastically.

Brady kicks his shin under the table, and Sam laughs. “I just have to be careful. I mean, how hard can it be to  _ not _ ruin 80 dollar shoes in one night?”

The number makes Sam practically spit his mouthful of water at Brady, but he catches himself before soaking him. “ _ 50 dollars? _ ” Brady shrugs like it's normal for him, and Sam just shakes his head. That's definitely not the kind of luxury he and Dean are afforded. Absently, he notices he can feel a bit of breeze on his toes from the sewn patches of his old sneakers. 

The boys have just a few more minutes time for conversation before the door jingles open and suddenly the restaurant is filled with the sound of a boisterous group having loud conversations. Brady looks over Sam’s shoulder at them and immediately turns pale and slides down his seat. “ _ Red alert _ ,” he hisses, his eyes barely visible over the side of the table. 

Following Brady’s nod in the group’s direction, Sam looks over his own shoulder and sees a bunch of familiar faces- including the one that grounded him a little over an hour ago. “Oh,  _ shit _ .” Sam immediately ducks in his own side of the booth, his heart pounding. “What are we gonna do?”

“We gotta get out of here.” Sam shoots Brady a look because that's  _ obvious _ , but Brady ignores it. “Okay, I got it.” Brady slides his wallet out of his pocket and slaps down enough money to cover their bill and moves to slip out of the booth. 

Sam catches his sleeve. “What are you doing? You're gonna get us caught.”

“It's called a distraction. I'm not the one that's grounded, dude.” Sam concedes. “I'll distract them with my dazzling charm while you escape, and Dean’s none-the-wiser.”

It's an easy enough plan, so Sam lets go of Brady’s sleeve and hides as he watches his blonde friend swagger his way over to Dean’s and his friends’ table. Brady claps Dean on the shoulder and talks to him way more comfortably than Sam knows Dean would want- Dean’s never been Brady’s biggest fan given his distaste for people with money. 

The distraction is effective, regardless, so in a blind rush, Sam bolts from his seat and directly out the door. He sprints as fast as he can until he's around the corner and definitely out of sight before he stops to wait for Brady to catch up. Brady comes bolting in his direction in less than a minute, and both of the boys break into adrenaline-induced laughing fits. Leaning on each other and wiping the tears from laughter away from their eyes, the two teenagers head off down the street.

 

**10:00pm**

Maybe leaving it up to Ash to roll them a joint in the car was a mistake. He’s sitting in the back with Jo shining a flashlight over his head so he can delicately put ground up crumbs on the thin paper, and he’s taking his sweet time doing it. “Any day now, Ash,” Dean remarks from the driver’s seat, sparing a glance in the rearview mirror to see his friend.

Ash doesn’t bother looking up, completely focused on his task at hand. “This,” Ash replies slowly, “is an art form. Art cannot be rushed.”

Everyone else in the car groans together, and Jo lets out a loud sigh. “Seriously, dude, my arm is tired.” Jo rests her elbow on the back of the seat in front of her impatiently.

“Okay, okay, stop rushing me.” The car bounces a little when Dean takes a speed bump too quickly, and Ash tries to hold onto the joint to steady it. 

“My bad,” Dean mumbles, not really hiding his smirk.

Ash licks the paper before rolling it expertly and finishing it off properly. “And…  _ voila _ ,” he announces with a dramatic hand gesture, extending it out in front of him like he really  _ does _ consider it a masterpiece. Charlie’s the first to reach for it, but Ash yanks it back from her with an objecting noise. “Dibs.”

“Oh my  _ God _ , hurry up,” Dean gripes as he finishes his cigarette and flicks it out the open window at his side.

Ash goes to light the paper with one of the lighters he found in the door console and gets it sparked in no time. After taking a long draw from it, Jo snatches it out of his hand and takes her own hit from it. She closes her eyes and sways happily to the song on the radio as she holds it in. Turning to the side, she takes Charlie’s chin in her hand and leans in until their lips are almost touching and blows smoke into her lungs.

When Jo pulls back and gives Charlie a little wink, she looks back up to the front to see all of the guys staring at them. “Dean!” Jo shouts as she notices he’s started to sway into oncoming traffic.

Dean curses under his breath and quickly fixes himself, yanking the steering wheel to the right. “So, you guys are together, right? You gotta be,” Benny asks, turned halfway around in his seat to look back at them. 

After Charlie takes a pull from the joint, she passes it to him and shrugs. Jo shrugs as well, and puts her arm around Charlie’s shoulders. Dean shakes his head and accepts the joint next. “You know you’ll never get a straight answer out of them,” he mentions to Benny knowingly before taking a long drag. “Teases, is what they are.”

Jo just shrugs passively again and rests her head on Charlie’s comfortably. “ _ Anyways _ ,” Charlie pipes up, dismissing the subject. “So,  _ Star Wars _ -”

Immediately, Benny and Jo groan, and Jo lets her head hit the back of her seat. At the same time, Dean and Ash both voice their excitement. “There’s no way they can top  _ A New Hope _ . They just  _ can’t _ ,” is Dean’s argument, and frankly, Jo’s heard this conversation enough for the rest of her life.

Charlie sits up in her seat, putting her hands on the seat behind Benny’s back and leans in excitedly. “Dude, this one’s going to be even better. I’m just excited they’re making a sequel- did you know they weren’t even sure it was going to be a success?”

“Are you kidding me?” Dean laughs almost like the accusation is ridiculous, and Jo takes the joint from whoever gives it to her and takes a long pull. “It was  _ revolutionary _ \- who else has done something like-”

“ _ Star Trek _ ,” Jo cuts him off simply.

To her side, Ash nods in agreeance. “I think,” Benny finally inserts, “y’all really need to get out more.”

Simultaneously, Charlie and Dean punch Benny in different spots, and Benny acts like he’s incredibly injured by it. Everyone laughs, and everyone continues their own conversations all at once- mostly Dean trying to be louder than everyone just to convince them  _ Star Trek  _ and  _ Star Wars _ aren’t even comparable- until Dean finally pulls into a gravelly path, almost hidden behind trees. Jo lets out a whoop of excitement and drums her hands on the seat in front of her.

From outside the window, she can see the crowd’s already there and comfortable. People are parked all around the woods- mostly pickup trucks with the gates down, allowing people to sit in the beds of the trucks- and gathered into groups. 

Everyone’s recognizable because it’s not that big of a town, but they’re all different ages. Some were in Dean’s graduating class, most having come back from college to live with their parents while looking for jobs. Some are older than Jo and Charlie, but most are in their class, the class that just graduated at the beginning of summer and are getting ready to start classes at the city college on Monday. Most of the others are Sam’s age, the new Seniors- full of hubris because of their new status as “gods of the school.” Cue eye roll. There are other younger people, and maybe just one or two people Benny’s age- only a little older than Dean and the rest.

There’s a fire burning in the fire pit, surrounded by logs that have had the tops flattened over time by generations of people hanging out there over the years. Off to the side are two kegs, with a couple of assholes surrounding it and doing what assholes do best, but that’s not going to be any trouble for them to get through. 

Their group spills out of the car as soon as Dean gets it parked, and the first thing Dean does is open his arms wide and cocky and bellow “Ladies! I have arrived.”

“Gag me,” Jo mutters to nobody in particular, and Charlie laughs as Jo tugs her towards the kegs. Their group splits off as Dean seems to find some bimbos who flock to him like moths to flames, and Ash sees some of his other friends around the fire. 

It’s a pretty nice night out despite the humidity; there’s a clearing in the trees above the fire pit so you can almost see some of the stars, and there’s a cool breeze blowing. The music is all over the place since everyone’s playing it out of their car radios, but it’s not bad at all. Downing one beer immediately and taking another with her as she and Charlie join the other people around the fire because she spotted some joints being passed around, Jo can already feel the good times rolling.

 

**11:15pm**

An easily identifiable Eric Clapton song starts playing in the car, and Dean closes his heavy eyes. “ _It’s late in the evening;_ _she’s wonderin’ what clothes to wear._ ” Dean hums contentedly, feeling the mellowness of the music bleeding from the radio wash over him. “ _She puts on her makeup-_ ”

The girl whose head in currently in his lap makes a noise, and Dean hums in wordless question. He peeks one eye open when she picks up her head to look at him. “I love this song,” she mentions as she wipes the corner of her pink lipstick-smeared lips. 

“Me too, baby.” Dean winks at her a little and takes a sip out of the cup sitting in his left hand, and the girl goes back to what she was doing. Dean takes a deep breath in and hums again, using his other hand to hold the blonde girl’s hair back from her face- y’know, because he's a gentleman. “Love this song,” he mumbles with a lazy smirk.

It’s hot. It’s the end of summer, and the two of them are stowed away in the backseat of the Impala by themselves, heating up the air with their breath and their bodies. Despite the clammy sweat spattered along Dean’s arms and down his spine, making his shirt stick to his skin, he’s finally starting to feel like his problems aren’t that bad afterall. Stretched out in the backseat of the Impala with a pretty girl between his legs and a beer in hand: it’s already proving to be a pretty good night. 

When it’s her turn, Dean downs the rest of his beer before adjusting himself back into his pants. Dean wraps his arm around her waist and kisses her lips. It’s messy, but it’s the heat of summer and they’re a bunch of intoxicated freeloaders with nothing better to do than screw around, so finesse is an afterthought.

Dean scooches down so he’s on his knees on the floorboard between her legs, and he grins into their kiss before moving his lips to her neck and collar. “Anyone ever showed you a good time like this?” Dean asks quietly. She’s shy about it, and Dean doesn’t have to watch her shake her head in order for him to know the answer. “Want me to stop?” The girl shakes her head eagerly, and Dean gives her a wolfish grin as he kisses her skin. With a wink, he hikes up her dress and slides off her panties.

Dean knows what he’s doing from years of questionable decisions. When he should’ve been in class or studying, he made better use of his time between some girl’s legs. He’d never get praises for his grades or his work ethic, but he’ll be damned if he didn’t earn the praises of every girl who’s ever wanted to give him a spin- and given the fact that he was first string defense every single football game, needless to say he quickly developed a reputation. So he sticks to what he knows: sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll. Stereotypes and cliches be damned. 

When he’s done, Dean sits up with a drunken, lazy grin on his lips, watching the girl catch her breath. “Oh my God.” She looks at Dean like he’s a goddamn rockstar, and that alone lets Dean know what she’ll say next. “You’re amazing.”

“I know.” The two climb out of the Impala, and Dean wipes a hand down the lower half of his face to clean himself up before unrolling the sleeve of his tee shirt and getting his pack of cigarettes. He sparks one up as the girl clambers out of the backseat, reaching back for her purse before she goes. 

Dean relaxes against the car, smoking and watching everyone else have a grand ol’ time as the girl uses his side mirror to fix her makeup. When she’s done, she puts a hand on his shoulder and kisses his cheek. “Call me sometime.”

Dean winks at her and blows out his smoke, watching her back away towards her friends. “Sure thing, sweetheart.” She smiles, and Dean almost feels bad that he doesn’t even know her name, let alone her phone number. But, he figures, he can just tack that onto the ever-growing list of reasons why he’s a shithead. What’s one more bullet point?

He puts his mind’s continuous cycle of self-depreciation on hold when he sees Charlie walking up with two beers in her hand. “You scored early tonight,” she observes as she stands beside him.

Dean shrugs lazily and accepts the beer his younger friend extends to him. “Last score of the summer. Had to make it count, right?” Charlie rolls her eyes lightheartedly as Dean sips from the cup. “What about you? Any prospects?” Charlie smiles into her cup, and Dean nudges her with his elbow. “Come on. Name any person here, and I guarantee I can be your wingman. Fly you right into the End Zone.” 

Charlie laughs and shakes her head. “I don’t need your help, Dean. Believe me. I have plenty of game,” she returns with a look like she means it. Dean yields with a chuckle, turning his attention back to the people around the fire- mostly kids who yearn too much for the decade they didn’t get to be apart of, smoking their joints and playing hippie music on their acoustic guitars, probably talking about conspiracy theories circulating the JFK assassination. “I’ll probably just go home with Jo tonight.” 

“Seriously?” Dean looks at her skeptically. “You don’t want to find a relationship? I mean, I get you guys are practically conjoined at the hip, but don’t you... “ Dean shakes his head, drunkenly trying to find the words. “Don’t you wanna fall in love or something? Isn’t that what chicks want?”

“Why don’t you ask Suzy that?” Charlie mumbles as she takes a drink from her cup. Dean peers at her curiously until he realizes that she means the girl he just hooked up with. Dean starts to fumble out some sort of dickwad apology, but Charlie just shakes her head. “Besides…” Charlie sighs and cocks her head at him. “Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

 

**11:30pm**

After getting lost for the better part of an hour due to the fact that they had different notions of where the bonfire actually  _ was _ , Sam and Brady finally made their way down the hidden path in the woods off of the road. Already, Sam can see the light of the fire and headlights coming from behind the thick trees, and he can hear music playing, along with people having a good time. “Come on!” Brady urges as he quickens his pace.

As they get into the clearing, it’s already obvious that Dean beat them there, judging by Charlie, Jo, and Ash sitting with other people around the fire. Sam barely has to look around a little while longer on their way to the keg before he sees the Impala. “Looks like we’ve gotta be careful,” Sam mentions to Brady. 

Brady looks over to where Sam’s looking and grins. “The windows are fogged up- dude, your brother’s a  _ legend _ .” 

Brady starts to pour himself a cup of beer, but puts way too much foam in the cup. “Give me that.” Sam takes the cup from Brady and dumps it out on the ground, much to Brady’s objection. Sam makes sure to keep his eyes on the Impala- just in case- as he pours beer down the side of the cup, a technique Dean told him about, in order to get the best beer-to-foam ratio. “Seriously, man, I can’t get caught. Dean will kill me.”

“You’re being a drama queen. Dean’s awesome. I wish he was my brother.”

Sam lets the comment slide as he pours his own drink. “Come on-”

“Jess!” Brady calls out, his hand and cup around his mouth to pick up volume. 

“Dude!” Sam scrambles to pull him away, but looks up to see a cute blonde girl with long ringlets perk her head up in their direction. Brady waves her over, and she grins warmly before saying something to the other group she was hanging out with. 

“Told you she was cute,” Brady mentions to him with a smirk. Sam doesn’t say anything. 

Jess bounces her way over to them, and it’s very obvious that she’s pretty. She’s got big eyes, nice, pink lips, and she has a great body. She’d be great for someone else- like Brady, or even Dean if they were the same age. For a second, Sam internally scolds himself for being a hypocrite since the age difference between Dean and Jess is a year  _ less _ than that of himself and Castiel. He stops when Jess reaches them with a bright smile.

“Hey,” she greets them.

Sam extends his hand to her first. “Hey, I’m-” 

“Sam,” she finishes as she shakes his hand. Sam smiles but furrows his brow at the sudden familiarity. She shakes her head in a flustered way. “Sorry, I’m sure that was weird. It’s just I’ve seen you at the mall and stuff, and pretty much everyone knows who you are.”

“No worries,” Sam says with a laugh. 

“We were about to go chill if you wanted to tag along,” Brady offers with a nod of his head. “I’m sure Sam won’t mind.” 

Jess looks to Sam first before agreeing, and Sam gives her a reassuring smile. When Brady has Sam fill up a cup for Jess- since apparently he’s an expert, if Brady’s gushing is anything to go by- a pair of hands clap down on Sam’s shoulders and make him practically jump out of his skin. Assuming it’s Dean, he turns around quickly, just to be met with the orange hair and freckles of Charlie. “You scared me,” Sam says with a relieved sigh.

Charlie laughs and pats him on the shoulder comfortingly, and Sam looks over her shoulder to make sure Dean’s not around. “Looking for someone?”

“Sam’s paranoid because Dean grounded him,” Brady answers for him. Sam gives him a flat look and Brady just shrugs.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, yo.” Charlie gives Sam a dorky fist bump, and Sam nods in thanks. A quick look over her shoulder to the car, and Charlie’s expression changes. “You might wanna get out of here, Dean’s getting out of the car.”

“Thanks, Charlie. Come on, guys.” Quickly, Sam, Brady and Jess walk further into the woods to a spot Sam knows has a clearing. When they finally agree they’re far enough, Sam finds a large boulder to sit on, and Jess sits next to him, leaving Brady to sit closer to the edge. 

It’s a little awkward at first because Brady obviously wants Sam to hit it off with this girl despite Sam’s complete lack of interest. Luckily, Jess senses the tension and sighs loudly. “You guys smoke pot?”

“Of course,” Brady answers first. Sam shoots him a quick look, which Brady ignores. “Why, do you have some?”

“Of course,” Jess returns just as coyly before looking in the small purse she has slung over her torso. 

She takes out a tin Altoids box, much to Sam’s confusion. “Uh, mints?”

Instead of responding, she pops open the little box with a smirk and proudly shows him four already rolled joints. “Not mints.” She puts one between her lips and pulls a lighter out of her purse as well and lights the paper. She closes her eyes on a long, slow drag before passing it to Sam first. “It’s hard being new in town and trying to find a new hookup,” Jess mentions as she exhales the smoke.

Sam just nods as he takes a drag from the joint. “Who’d you end up getting this from?” Brady asks, extending his hand to Sam but keeping his eyes on Jess.

“The guy with the... mullet- Ash? The one who works the carousel in the mall,” she answers, taking a sip from her cup. “Back in New York, it was so easy to find… everything. But here…”

“Don’t worry. Pretty much every single person in our school could probably point you in the direction of whatever you need,” Sam remarks with a grin. “Especially my brother.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Brady mentions, choking a little on way too big of an inhale of smoke. Jess and Sam both watch him with amusement as he fixes himself. “Dean’s, like, the coolest guy in town. Cooler than me, even.”

Sam huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes. “Is that so?” Jess humors him with a smile. She takes an easy drag before handing it to Sam and eyeing him carefully as he smokes. “Maybe it’s just because I’ve been around my share of  _ cool guys _ back in New York,” she speaks carefully, resting her chin on her fist. “But I find that the quiet guys are usually the ones with the most interesting stories.”

Sam doesn’t say anything, just takes another drag and picks at the stray piece of string hanging from a hole in his jeans. Brady clears his throat and takes the rolled paper from Sam’s hand. “So, uh, Jess- you, uh…” Brady hits the joint before continuing. “You don’t seem like the kinda girl who really… partakes in the drug activities.”

Jess chuckles a little and gives him an easy half-shrug. “It’s medicinal, man. Drugs get a bad rep, but that’s totally just instilled in us by the baby boomers.” She takes a long drag before sucking it in deeper. “Drugs can help us… Expand our minds.” She exhales and hands the paper to Sam before taking a drink from her cup. “Explore  _ ourselves _ , y’know?”

Sam smiles to himself and nods. “ _ Someone _ has hippie parents,” Brady jibes out of the corner of his mouth.

“Hey, my  _ hippie parents _ also happen to both have PhDs, so I wouldn't judge them just yet,” Jess returns with a small punch to Brady’s shoulder. “What about you, Sam? Do you usually  _ partake _ ?”

“Not really,” Sam admits as he holds in his drag. He exhales and takes another quick one before passing the slowly shrinking paper to Brady. “I’m…” Sam chuckles at his own nerdiness before he admits, “I’m in chess club.”

Brady immediately smacks Sam’s knee with the back of his hand and gives him a pointed look. “I play chess too,” Jess says before Brady says anything, giving Sam a warm smile. Sam nods, thinking Jess would be a pretty awesome friend to have around afterall. “What other clubs does LHS have? I really need to get more involved so that I can get into Stanford.”

“You’re going to Stanford, too?” Sam practically spills with excitement. “So are we!”

“I’m going to be third generation legacy. This is so cool! What a coincidence!” 

Sam nods eagerly, and practically downs the rest of his cup. “This is awesome.” 

Brady mumbles something sarcastic about none of them knowing for sure if they’re going to get in, but Sam chooses to ignore it. “Um, well, I’m also in debate, and I play baseball- we have so much.” Sam pours on about the different clubs their school has, probably longer and more enthusiastically than he should, but he’s allowed to be excited about something.

“All day, and nothing. Not an ounce of enthusiasm from this one,” Brady remarks, pointing his thumb at Sam. “But talking about school, and he can’t shut up.”

“Sit on it, Brady,” Sam huffs, ducking his face in mild embarrassment. He’s finally starting to feel a pleasant buzz fall over him, and he got carried away. 

“Hey, Brady-” Jess looks into her cup as she finishes the joint they’ve been passing around and flicks it away. “I’m running pretty low. Think you can get us some drinks?”

“You got it,” Brady accepts with a flat smile. He hops down from the rock and walks toward the bonfire until he disappears from eyesight.

Jess takes another joint from her tin box and lights it, allowing a small silence to sit over them. It’s not uncomfortable like the first one was, and Sam’s not nearly as nervous as before. Jess takes a few short hits before passing it to Sam. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Sam takes a long drag from the joint and waits for Jess to speak again.

She does that thing where she rests her chin on her fist again, peering at him closely. “So, you’re gay, right?” Sam practically chokes on smoke in a frenzied panic, and Jess puts her hands out apologetically. “Sorry, I forget that it’s not the same here as it is in the city.”

“You- I-” Sam swallows and shakes his head, trying to remain casual, but not being able to. “What- uh-”

“It’s cool if you are; I don’t judge.” Sam’s still on edge, but Jess tries to reassure him. “I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“How… Um…”

Jess shrugs a little, her blonde ringlets falling over her shoulder. “I’m kind of putting myself out there, and not to be arrogant, but I just got a feeling like it wasn’t me.”

“Yeah, it’s…” Sam sighs and scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s not you.”

Jess goes to pass him the joint again, but Sam’s already feeling his high and declines the offer. “Do you like Brady?”

Sam practically snorts at the question. “Do  _ you _ ?” Sam returns. Jess yields with a small chuckle. “I like to think I have better taste than Tyson Brady.” Jess looks like she's about to ask something, but Sam backtracks. “We've been friends for so long, I couldn't see myself cutting him out, even when he's a jerk sometimes. He used to be a really good guy. Cared a lot about school, and that's kind of how we became friends, but I don't know. So, he hasn't always been an ass. I like to think that guy is still somewhere in there.”

“Did he ask you to put in a good word for him?” Jess asks with an easy laugh. Sam chuckles and shakes his head. Another small silence falls over them before Jess redirects the subject. “So, do you have a boyfriend?” Sam gives her a pointed look, and she smiles understandingly. “Got it.” She pauses for a second before extending her right hand to him. “Friends?”

Sam lets out a breathy laugh, but shakes her hand. “Friends.”

 

**12:00am**

It’s probably the intoxicated feeling Jo’s feeling at the moment, but she could swear Charlie’s never smelled or felt better, like,  _ ever _ . They’re chilling in the bed of someone’s car- Jo’s not really sure of the owner or how they ended up there- and Jo’s busy wrapping her arms around Charlie and burying her face in the ginger hair. She can’t even help it- Charlie smells like vanilla or cupcakes or… something. 

“Oh my God, you’re like an octopus,” Charlie giggles out after a failed attempt to pry Jo’s arms off of her. Jo laughs and pulls Charlie back and wraps her legs around Charlie’s waist instead of letting go, eliciting more laughter from Charlie. “Help!” Charlie bellows loudly, her voice breaking off on a hiccup.

“The more you fight, the tighter the grip,” Jo mumbles into Charlie’s hair as she tightens her limbs, hearing a squeak come from Charlie’s chest.

“Oh, so you’re a snake?” Jo laughs and nods, pulling on Charlie more and rolling around on the dirty truck bed. “Hey- Hey, Cas! You made it!”

Jo finally moves her face from the back of Charlie’s head to see, and spots Cas approaching them with an amused expression on his face. “Hey-ey-ey!” Jo stumbles out as she laughs.

“What are you doing to this poor girl?” Cas asks Jo, who releases her grip on Charlie but buries her grin into the top of Charlie’s clothed back anyways. “She’s in a good mood,” he directs at Charlie.

“You think?”

Jo pops her face up and wraps her arms comfortably around the top of Charlie’s arms and crosses over her chest, swaying her. “ _ I, _ ” she enunciates slowly, “am in a  _ phenomenal _ mood.  _ Thank you. _ ” Cas’ mouth twitches with a smile, keeping his hands in his coat pockets. “Oh! I know!” Jo removes her arms from Charlie and scooches her way down the bed of the truck and hops off, wobbling on her heels as she lands. “I’ll get you a drink!”

“I can get-” 

Jo cuts Cas off by shaking her head and backing away, instructing him to sit by patting the bed of the truck. “I will be right back.”

Jo makes her way over to the keg, maneuvering through the different crowds of people- including Dean, who’s busy under the hood of some other guy’s car, comparing horse powers or something stupid. When she gets there and pushes away the brute of a guy standing directly in her way, she takes two cups and starts to fill them up. Absently, she glances up to see Brady gracelessly trying to balance three full cups in his hands and under his chin, making his way towards the woods and away from everyone else.

Curiosity has her immediately abandoning her task, taking one half-filled cup with her as she follows Brady out into the wood. Eventually, she sees him make his way towards a clearing, and Jo looks up to where she hears voices to see Sam and some blonde girl sitting and smoking on top of a big boulder. 

“Well, well, well.” Jo’s voice startles the group a little, making Brady turn too quickly and he drops one of the cups of beer. He only manages to barely move his foot in time for the liquid to miss his shoe. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Hey, Jo,” Sam greets her first, that cute, dimply, puppy-dog grin on his lips. He looks like he’s having a pretty good time, too.

“Heya, Sammy.” Jo sips her cup and nods to the girl. “You’re new.”

“I’m Jess,” the girl says, sending a small wave in her direction.

“Jo.” Jo reaches a hand up and Jess crawls to the edge of the rock to shake her hand. “So, what, you guys don’t like the party?” Brady- still standing on the ground holding the beers- and Sam start fumbling around excuses, but Jo’s too buzzed to listen. “ _ Come on _ . Come join us!”

“Is Dean-?”

“It’ll be fun! Come on, come on,” Jo urges, tugging on the end of Sam’s jeans. “You’re our favorite, Sam. Come on, please?”

Sam still won’t give in, but he gives his other friends a helpless look. “But Dean-”

“Nobody cares, Sam,” Jo drawls out lazily with a wobble of her head. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Let’s go.” She makes a gesture with her hands towards the rest of the bonfire, and finally Sam gives in. Sam and the new girl climb down from the rock, and Jo grabs Sam’s hand, pulling him reluctantly towards their group. “You guys come, too,” she directs at the blondes who are falling behind. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Sam observes with a quiet chuckle.

“Everyone keeps saying that.” Jo huffs, tugging Sam more pointedly. “You’d think I was a bitch or something.”

“Well-” 

Jo pulls Sam through the crowds and towards Charlie and Cas. Cas is the first one to notice, and his face immediately brightens when he does so. “Look what I found!” Jo announces.

“Hey, guys,” Sam says, finally freeing his clammy hand from Jo’s grasp. Jo climbs onto the bed of the car and sits on the metal toolbox, patting it for Charlie to come sit with her. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Sam,” Cas replies to him.

“You guys got caught?” Charlie asks as she stands up to move. She shakes her head as she plops down in the spot next to Jo. 

Brady shrugs, still holding onto his two beers for some reason, and Jess just stands there uncomfortably. “Dean…” Sam starts, looking around nervously.

“Dean this, Dean that- God, Sam, be your own person, man,” Jo teases.

Charlie elbows her in the ribs. “Sam’s grounded,” she tells Jo. Jo nods understandingly before Charlie turns her attention back to Sam. “We actually just saw Dean drive off somewhere. Not sure where he went, though, but he was very loud about it. He went with someone else… I forget who.” 

Sam looks relieved and looks to Cas for  _ something _ before he awkwardly sits down next to him. Jo slings an arm over Charlie’s shoulder, rubbing her palm on the cozy fabric of Charlie’s sweater. Brady says something that Jo’s not listening to as he hops onto the bed of the car and makes himself comfortable on Charlie’s other side. “Ladies, these are for you,” he charms as he hands them the beers in his hands.

Suddenly, Jo remembers that she totally spaced on getting Cas a drink. “Oh yeah- here, Cas.” She extends the beer to Cas, shaking it a little in her hand when he doesn’t immediately accept it.

“That’s alright. I’ll go get my own.” 

Jo shrugs and moves to retrieve her purse in the hopes of finding a cigarette, and Sam’s suddenly standing up. “I’ll go with you,” he offers to Cas.

“Hurry back,” Jo calls out to them, her voice muffled by the cigarette being held between her lips, as she fumbles around with her lighter.

“I’m Jess, by the way,” Jess finally says to Charlie with a small wave. “I’m new.”

“Hey, I’m Charlie. I was new at one point, too. It gets less awkward.”

Jo finally gets her cigarette lit and she waves Jess over. “You’re cute, come sit with us.” Jo’s suddenly aware of the fact that there’s only room for three to sit on the metal toolbox, and she leans over Charlie to push at Brady’s shoulder. “You- move.”

“Hey!” Brady finally gives up his spot and sits on the side of the truck instead. “After I was so kind to give you girls drinks, too.”

Jess gracefully gets on the car and Charlie and Jo separate so she can sit between them. “Yeah, but she’s so cute, isn’t she?” Jo observes as she touches the soft blonde curls draped over Jess’ back.

“Where do you work?” Charlie asks Jess, all of them ignoring Brady at this point.

Jess makes a small laugh as both Charlie and Jo start lightly playing with her hair. “Uh- nowhere right now. I’m looking, though.”

“You  _ have _ to come work at the ice cream shop,” Jo tells her before taking a deep drag of her cigarette. “Seriously, easiest money you’ll ever make.”

“Dick’s a perv, but he’ll definitely hire you. You’re adorable,” Charlie adds, and Jo nods. 

“I can’t believe I have front row seats to this hot girl-on-girl action,” Brady observes as he smirks and crosses his arms. All of the girls give him unamused looks, and he laughs. Jo gets up enough to push him in the chest, sending Brady flailing about and getting knocked off the back of the truck. Jo has a split second to regret it, but Brady lands awkwardly on his knees, so he’s fine. “What…”

“I’m sorry- I guess I just don’t know my own strength,” Jo says, feigning sympathy with a hand on her chest. She and the girls giggle as she sits back in her spot.

“What in the…?” Jo can’t see what Brady’s mumbling about, so she turns her attention back to the girls. She’s about to ask Jess all about where she’s from when she’s cut off by a blood-curdling scream. “ _ There’s shit on my shoes! _ ”

 

**12:30pm**

“Dean grounded you?” Cas asks as soon as they’re out of earshot of their friends. Everyone’s inebriated enough by now to be boisterous as a group, so Cas has to lean into Sam a little so he can hear as they maneuver through the people. “What happened?”

Sam lets out a sigh and blinks rapidly, willing the fog in front of his eyes to clear. “My Stanford application finally came in,” he answers as they get to the keg. Though Cas doesn’t ask, Sam already knows the question. “It went exactly as I expected.” Cas gives him a look, somewhere between sympathy and understanding, and Sam shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” Cas sighs and pours a cup of beer and offers it to Sam, who accepts it and fidgets with the rim of the plastic between his fingers. “He’ll come around.”

Sam wants to believe him, but he just doesn’t. Dean’s not that kind of guy. Instead of responding, Sam just nods, keeping his head down and staring into the foamy orange-brown liquid in his cup.

Whatever Cas says next gets drowned out by a loud scream, and everyone looks to the source- the truck they were just at. “ _ There’s shit on my shoes! _ ” And that’s definitely Brady’s voice.

Sam’s first instinct should be sympathy- he knows how precious Brady’s shoes are to him- but instead, he has to make an effort to stifle his laugh. Looking back at Cas’ unaware profile, Sam feels the urge to just get away from everyone else. So while everyone’s attention is still on Brady’s crazed tantrum, Sam surreptitiously takes Cas’ free hand in his own and pulls him away from the keg and towards the woods. Cas doesn’t respond right away, but he quickly follows Sam to avoid being caught by anyone around them. 

“Wasn’t that your friend?” Cas questions him, leaning into Sam’s back once they’re far enough into the woods.

“Yeah, but he’s kind of an ass sometimes. He deserves a little bit of shit on his shoes.” Cas chuckles and Sam feels it on the back of his neck. The slight cool breeze sends a shiver down his spine- that, and the feeling of Cas’ slender fingers relaxing and sliding to interlock with his own.

Finally, Sam feels they’re far enough and turns when he reaches a large tree. It’s the first time they’ve been alone since this morning when Cas dropped Sam off at home, but with the day Sam’s been having, seeing the fond smile on Cas’ lips is all he needs to make it all go away. “Hey,” he whispers with a wide grin.

“Hello,” Cas whispers in return, letting Sam pull him into his space until their noses are bumping. Sam tilts his chin to capture Castiel’s lips and breathes in deeply. They both hum when Sam’s back hits the tree and Cas has to step between his legs to bring them closer together. Sam holds his cup to the side to not spill it as he uses his other hand to graze up Cas’ arm and to the side of his face, sliding their lips together more comfortably and kissing Cas thoroughly. After a moment, Cas sighs and pulls back a little, landing a few more brief pecks on Sam’s lips. Finally, Sam lets his head fall back against the tree lazily and watches as Cas licks his lips. “I’m sorry today has been…”

“Horse shit?” Sam finishes for him, his tone coming out a little more acidic than he intended. Cas chuckles a little and takes a sip from his cup. Sam sighs drunkenly and does the same. “It’s not your fault.”

“Still-”

“Cas,” Sam interrupts genuinely. “Hey.” Sam takes Castiel’s hand in his own again and intertwines their fingers, bringing their conjoined hands up between their chests until Cas looks him in the eyes. Sam’s eyes are still a little foggy from smoking probably too much, and the night might be a little too dark to see clearly anyways, but the sapphire blue in Cas’ eyes have a way of reflecting the stars and moon in a way that nothing can keep Sam from seeing clearly. “Believe me when I say that you are…” Sam makes another deep sigh and shakes his head. “The  _ only _ good thing about my day.” Cas’ lips turn back up into a small smile, and Sam grins in return. “Seriously, Cas, I have no idea what I’d do without you.”

Cas brings their interlocked fingers to his lips and kisses Sam’s knuckles briefly before grazing his thumb over them soothingly. “You’re drunk,” Cas observes in a whisper, keeping his eyes on the way his own thumb rises and falls over the shapes of Sam’s knuckles.

“Not really,” Sam snorts. Cas raises an eyebrow to him and Sam grins. “I’m a little high, but I’m not drunk. Not  _ very _ drunk, anyways.” Cas hums and nods in wordless response, the smile on his lips fading like he’s lost in his own mind. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Sam opens his mouth to object, but Cas shakes his head and finally meets Sam’s eyes again. “Absolutely nothing is wrong.” Cas pauses for a moment, his eyes lingering on Sam’s lips, before adding, “Thanks to you.”

“Me? What did I do?”

Cas looks like he has something to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes flicker between Sam’s eyes and lips a few times before they both lean in for another kiss. The kiss lacks the urgent heat that can sometimes consume them, but is full of months of romantic familiarity- not including the years they knew each other before things changed- and weighs heavy with meaning that Sam isn’t quite sure how to interpret. Whatever it means on Castiel’s end, it’s enough to make him feel even more intoxicated, and he finds himself chasing Cas’ lips when they pull away from his own. 

Sam can practically feel Cas’ smile despite their lips no longer touching, and Sam makes a small noise of objection. “Remind me again why we can’t just run away together,” Sam whispers, keeping his eyes closed and the tip of his nose pressed to Cas’ cheek.

Cas’ breath feels shallow when it hits Sam’s wet lips. “Right now, I’m having trouble remembering my reasons,” Cas replies in a matching whisper. Sam tilts his chin to press a few more kisses to Castiel’s lips and wraps his arm around Cas’ neck, pulling him in closer. “Mm, you’re not helping.”

Sam’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, and he smiles against Cas’ cheek before grazing his bottom teeth on Cas’ lips and pushing up into another kiss. “Not trying to help, Cas.” Sam grins as Cas lets out a shaky laugh. “Let’s go back to your place.”

“I just got here.” Sam makes a tiny noise of complaint, and Cas pecks him on the lips again. “We can go when you sober up a little.”

Sam finally lets Cas pull back a little. With a resigned sigh, Sam immediately empties the contents of his cup and tosses it aside. Cas chuckles and sips his own cup triumphantly.

 

**1:35am**

Leaving to go by the house to get a few things had turned into a pretty good idea. They’d retrieved a full bottle of whiskey Dean had actually forgotten about- if he’d remembered, it probably would’ve been gone by now- and a spur of the moment decision had Dean bringing back his acoustic guitar.

Now, he’s sitting around the bonfire, strumming the strings of his guitar. Around the heat of the crackling fire are a few people he can’t remember the name of at the moment, as well as Meg and Benny- sitting a lot closer than Dean figured they’d be sitting- and Ash on the log next to his own. 

Dean nods to Ash in a wordless gesture, and Ash understandingly pulls a plastic bag out of his pocket. Inside the plastic baggy are a few rolled joints he’d occupied himself with earlier, and Ash lights one up before standing up a little to hand the joint to Dean. “Thank you, brother,” Dean mutters before taking a hit. He keeps the paper between his lips at the side of his mouth, blowing the smoke out of his nose as he plays the guitar.

He starts playing a slow, familiar Led Zeppelin tune. He strums each chord like it’s second nature, one that he can’t fuck up, even if he’s already under the heavy veil of inebriation. Knowingly, someone behind him starts whistling the flute tune as if on a cue, and some of the other people join them until there’s at least four voices all whistling along.

“ _ There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold _ ,” Dean sings quietly, careful not to let the joint fall out of his mouth.

“ _ And she’s buying a stairway _ ,” a female voice joins in behind him. Dean looks up when hands fall onto his shoulders to see Jo’s familiar face and blonde curls above him. “ _ -to heaven. _ ”

Dean grins warmly at her with hooded eyes, keeping his fingers going on the guitar. “Hey, baby, how you doin’?” 

Jo wraps one arm over his chest and uses the other hand to take the joint out of his mouth and holds it up to her own. “Mm, I’m doin’ good, baby, how you doin’?” Jo sways both of their bodies slowly in time with the music and rests her chin on Dean’s forehead.

“Better now.” Dean can feel Jo’s chuckle vibrate from her chest and throat, and she puts the joint back up to his lips for him to take a drag. Jo moves her lips to his temple as she continues to hum along to the song, and Dean’s grin widens. “Did you come over here to tell me I’m the next Jimmy Page?”

Jo takes a deep sigh and Dean can feel her chest move with a laugh against his back. “Honey, I love ya,” she starts, and the warmth of her breath on his ear gives him goosebumps. “-but you’ll never be Jimmy Page.”

Dean feigns a noise of being hurt and his friends chuckle with them. “That really hurts. You know what would make it all better?” Jo hums, still swaying against his back with her eyes closed. “A kiss.”

“Oh, is that all? Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Jo moves her hands to frame his face upside down and pull his head back. She hovers above his lips teasingly before moving her lips to his forehead and pressing a kiss to his skin there. She laughs and puts his head back, ruffling the short hair on the top of his head. 

Suddenly the warm body pressed up against his back is gone, and only her hand lingers for another second to put the joint back between his lips. “ _ In a tree by the brook, there’s a songbird who sings, _ ” Jo continues to sing as she walks further away- somewhere behind Dean that he can’t see. Her voice fades with distance before she bellows, “ _ Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven, _ ” and then her voice is gone from earshot completely.

Dean’s smile lingers as he plays the strings more confidently as the song builds, but he stops to take a hit of the joint and pass it back to Ash. The mullet-topped boy is looking at him with slotted eyes and a curious smirk on his lips as he takes the rolled paper from Dean’s fingers. “What are you lookin’ at?” 

“She moved on, man,” Ash answers a question Dean didn’t ask. Dean just sips from his cup, sitting it down at his side and licking his lips before occupying himself with resuming the song. “She was so in  _ love with you, man _ -”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Dean mumbles as he watches his fingers move on the instrument.

“Yeah,” Ash repeats, bobbing his head to the tune. A silence falls over them filled with just the sound of Dean’s guitar until Ash sighs and speaks up again. “But you missed your chance-” Dean sucks on the insides of his cheeks as he strums the chords harder, building the song again and trying to subside the conversation. “Totally blew it.”

“I get it,” Dean finally responds a little sharply, still not looking up. He strums more confidently as the song comes near the end and glances up to see Jo coming back to their group before looking back down. “Trust me, I get it,” he adds at a volume only loud enough for Ash to hear.

“ _ And she’s buying a stairway to heaven _ ,” Jo sings slightly off-key after Dean finishes strumming. Picking up his cup in her free hand, she plops down in the spot next to him, straddling the log to face him. She hands his cup back to him and holds two beer bottles of her own with her other hand. Wordlessly, she exchanges one beer for the roach in Ash’s hand. “Okay,” she says decisively even though nobody else said anything. Dean watches her nod as she smokes what’s left of the joint and then drink from her bottle in the same hand, sipping his own drink and smiling inwardly. “Okay, Mr. Page,” Jo says firmly, using her free hand still on his shoulder to pat him. “Play me some ‘Kashmir’.”

Dean finishes what’s left in his cup and sets it aside before repositioning his hands on the guitar. He gets half of a chord into the song before Jo’s hand is patting him on the shoulder again. “No, no, no, no- ‘Over the Hills’.” Dean chuckles and starts that song before she’s shaking her head and patting him again, swaying up against his arm. “‘Since I’ve Been Loving You’.”

“You sure?” Jo nods animatedly, and Dean raises his eyebrows for emphasis. Jo says she’s sure this time, so Dean starts playing the slow beginning strings of her final request. Jo moves her hand to his other shoulder and rests her head on the shoulder closest to her, and Dean can feel her chest rise and fall against his arm as she sighs contentedly. 

 

**1:40am**

Charlie’s off talking to some of her geek friends that Jo doesn’t particularly get along with, so Jo’s wandering on her own. She’d seen Dean playing guitar by the fire- playing one of her favorite songs- so she’d stopped by before venturing off again. Now, she’s attempting to tap a keg that’s not cooperating with her inebriated attempts for hydration. Throwing a bit of a fit, she kicks the empty metal with the tip of her heeled foot. She huffs decisively and puts her hands on her hips, looking around for anyone who might have more drinks. 

It’s a last resort, but Jo knows their goofy friend, Garth, is always a sure thing. He brings his own beer that he bottles himself in some attempt to “kickstart his entrepreneurial business,” and frankly, it’s not that great, but it’s not all too bad either. So, Jo makes her way over to where he’s sitting in the bed of his hooptie, windows rolled down and blasting some hip hop music that most people around here don’t listen to. 

When he spots her approaching him, his lips spread into a bright, friendly smile. “Hey!”

“Hey, bud.” Jo leans up against the side of Garth’s car and drums her hands on it. “How’s your brew selling?”

“Not so bad. I got a bottle here with your name on it,” he offers as he reaches into the cooler sitting at his side.

“How much are you askin’?” Jo opens the purse on her hip to see what cash she has with her.

“Nada. Ladies’ night, ladies drink for free.” Garth gives her another smile and extends a glass bottle out to her. 

Jo takes it and examines the label. “Thanks, man.” She twists open the bottle and takes a swig. It’s too much flavor at first, but settles down really well. She licks her lips and tilts her bottle to him. “You’re gonna be famous one day.”

“I really appreciate that,” he says with a small blush like he really means it.

“Can I get another bottle for my friend?” Garth nods and starts talking about something as he retrieves another bottle, but Jo’s too distracted to listen. He hands her the other bottle, and Jo reaches up to pinch his cheek lightly in thanks, making him giggle in a way most guys are too self-conscious to do. “Don’t go changin’, G-Man.”

“You wrote that in my yearbook,” Garth mentions as Jo backs away.

“I sure did. And don’t you forget it.” Jo points at him and winks. She takes a few more blind steps backwards before she’s running right into someone. “Shit! I’m so sorry-” 

“That’s alright. Are you okay?” Jo turns around to see she’d run right into Cas, who was walking with Sam. 

“Are y’all leaving?” Jo asks suddenly, ignoring Cas’ question. 

Cas and Sam look at each other before looking back to her. “Sam needs a ride home, and I’m exhausted from work today, so-”

“We kinda need to sneak past Dean, though,” Sam mentions more to Cas than Jo. 

Cas opens his mouth, but Jo beats him to it with a grad hand gesture. “I wouldn’t worry about it. He’s probably too toasted to even notice you.” Jo pulls both of them in for a brief group hug before she heads back in the direction of the fire. “I’ll see y’all at work tomorrow. Get home safe, okay?”

The boys wave at her before heading towards where Jo’s sure Cas’ car is parked, and Jo makes her way to where Dean is playing the ending of “Stairway”. She catches Dean’s eyes for a second and grins, waiting for him to finish playing the last of the chords before she sings, “ _ And she’s buying a stairway to heaven. _ ”

 

**2:15am**

After they’d been wandering around the woods and talking long enough for Sam to convince Castiel that he was sober enough for them to leave, Cas had driven them back to his apartment. 

Countless nights spent at the apartment over the past few months have made it almost feel like a second home to Sam. It’s really nothing special from an objective viewpoint: it’s one room with  walls that are plastered with the standard, out-dated wallpaper with burnt orange designs that should’ve been left in the last decade, the carpet doesn’t match very well and is littered with small black spots from cigarette burns over the years, and Cas’ kitchen is just as full as one would imagine the kitchen of a broke, mostly single guy just out of college would be- which isn’t saying much. Plus, Cas isn’t really one for decorating, so it really is just down to basics in his pad. 

But there’s something about being here that calms Sam. Out of all the places he’s been, this is where he feels the most comfortable. Maybe it’s the faintly antique smell that’s so distinct to Cas’ home- the smell of a record collection that’s size is only beat out by that of his book selection; maybe it’s just the memories, all those nights of not being able to be themselves anywhere except for inside those walls and behind the locked door. Whatever it is, Sam can appreciate the apartment for far more than what it seems.

Immediately once he’s inside, Sam shucks goes straight to Castiel’s old record player- a refurbished piece from about 30 years ago that Cas got from his grandparents before they passed- and sits cross-legged by his boxes full of records with his back to Cas’ pulled-out couch bed. His collection is pretty extensive and various, something that Sam can definitely appreciate. Right now, though, Sam’s fingering through them relatively quickly, determined to find what he’s looking for.

Behind him, he can hear Cas rummaging in the kitchen and sighing when he inevitably can’t find anything except old leftovers. Sam hears the faucet running briefly and turning back off as he continues his search for a specific album. Against his back, the mattress puffs under Cas’ weight when he sits down on it. “Looking for something special?” Cas asks quietly, putting two glass cups down on the end table and taking off his shoes.

Without sparing a glance back, Sam mutters, “It should be… somewhere…” After about ten more covers, his eyes finally land on the dark indigo picture of a city street corner at night, a man standing at a doorway under a streetlight, and Sam smiles as he pulls it out. “Found it.”

Sam gets up to put the record on, easing the arm onto the vinyl carefully as it plays. The soft beat of drums comes faintly from the speakers, and Sam grins again. “ _ Pushing through the market square _ ,” Bowie sings as Sam turns around to sit next to Cas. “ _ So many mothers sighing. _ ”

“ _ Ziggy Stardust _ ,” Cas observes, nodding slowly. “Once again, I must admire your excellent taste.”

“I was just really in the mood for Bowie today.” Sam lays with his back against the cushioned back of the couch as a headboard and toes off his sneakers onto the floor. Tiredly, he rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. “God, you know that feeling after you’ve come down from a high and you just feel fuzzy? Like…” Sam moves his hands and turns his glance to Cas, who is watching him lazily. “It’s almost like a headache, but not  _ really _ \- your eyes feel like they’re too big for their sockets.”

“Mm, yes. One of the downsides of recreational drug use.” Cas grabs one of the cups on the table by his other side and hands it to Sam. “I have Tylenol in the medicine cabinet, if you want me to get you some.”

Sam sips his water and shakes his head. “That’s okay. It’s not so bad.” 

Sam leans over Cas to put the water back down before making himself comfortable, cozying into Castiel’s body heat. Cas puts his arms around Sam’s shoulders and rests his chin on the top of Sam’s head when Sam rests his head on Cas’ chest comfortably. They stay quiet for a while, just listening to the first song fade and the intro to “Soul Love” start. Closing his eyes and listening to the music in one ear and the steady heartbeat inside Castiel’s chest with his other ear, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath, Sam’s headache quickly melts away. 

He does start to think about how much harder it’s going to be for them to sneak around when school starts back up on Monday. Sam has classes  _ and _ work afterwards- not to mention they still have Dean to work around. It just… It sucks, basically. Sam wants this thing with Cas to be so much more than just a summer fling like people their age tend to have, little fleeting things to be tossed aside when the leaves start to change colors. In his heart, he knows it’s got to be more than that with Cas- Cas isn’t that type of guy.  _ Dean’s _ that type of guy, but Cas is different. He has to be.

As if he could sense Sam’s worrying, Cas’ hand on his back rubs up and down his spine soothingly. “How are you feeling?” He asks, and Sam can feel the gravel in his voice vibrate through his chest.

“‘m fine,” Sam responds, pulling Cas’ waist tighter. Sam dismisses his train of thought in the hopes of savoring the night. “Hey, Cas. You, uh…” Sam clears his throat and tilts his head up to study Castiel’s features. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“This… You and me…” Cas makes a humming noise and his eyes cast down from where they’d been looking into Sam’s as he watches his own hand on the arm Sam has across his waist. “It’s not just a fling for you, is it?” Castiel’s eyes meet his again, their look more bewildered than before. Sam swallows and shrugs. “I understand if it is, it’s just that-”

“Sam,” Cas interrupts. “You know I’m not the most vocal about my thoughts and feelings, but if I ever gave you the impression my affection towards you is anything but sincere, then I’m sorry.” Sam goes to correct himself, say that it wasn’t anything Cas did, but Cas continues on. “I don’t have to explain to you how hard it is to keep so much of yourself hidden from everyone. I connect more with you than with anyone I’ve ever met, and you  _ understand _ . That’s very important to me.” Cas sighs, and Sam’s head rises and falls with it, their eyes still locked in place. “You are very important to me.”

“You’re important to me, too, Cas,” Sam replies quietly. He can feel his heart swelling inside his chest, like he needs to say something, but he’s too afraid of being a total spaz and ruining the moment if Cas doesn’t feel  _ that _ strongly about him, so he stays silent. Instead, he just stays in place, the only part of him moving being the hand on Castiel’s clothed collar, palms and fingers slowly grazing over the cotton of his shirt.

It takes Cas a while to speak again, but Sam can feel the tension in Cas’ chest, the way his heartbeat has sped up a little since Sam brought the subject up. “I love you, Sam.” The suddenness of the sentence grabs Sam’s attention, but Cas’ voice was quiet enough that Sam might’ve misheard. 

Looking at the sincerity in Cas’ features, the vulnerability behind his eyes, and Sam knows he didn’t mishear anything. A wave of relief hits him, and Sam lets out a shaky laugh that’s probably too loud and too out of place. His head hangs as his shoulders shake with more silent laughter. “Oh, thank  _ God _ .” Cas clears his throat and his hands stop their movement on Sam. Sam cuts off whatever Cas goes to say by surging up and sealing their lips together. The kiss is crushing at first, both of them kissing too eagerly, but when their heads tilt and their lips slide more softly together, it’s perfect. Sam moves his hand to Cas’ jaw, and Cas’ arms around his back tighten, pulling them closer together. “I love you, too,” Sam mutters between kisses. 

Sam can feel Castiel’s smile on his lips, and chuckles again. Cas sighs and lets his head fall back. “What’s so funny?” 

Still holding back another laugh, Sam shakes his head. “Nothing.” Cas squints at him skeptically, and Sam lets out a small laugh. “I’m just really relieved, honestly- I swear I’m not laughing at you.” Finally accepting his answer, Cas lets Sam wrap his hand around the back of his neck and pull him back in for another kiss. “You make me really happy-” kiss “-You know that?” Cas doesn’t reply, but the smile that doesn’t fade from his lips and the heat that’s risen in his cheeks is answer enough for Sam. 

A new fire blooms inside Sam’s chest, one that makes him curl his fingers in Cas’ hair and hold on as he kisses more urgently, one that has him rolling onto his back and tugging Cas on top of him. Cas slides between his legs comfortably, and Sam’s legs wrap around his waist and urge him closer. This isn’t the first time they’ve found themselves rolling around on Cas’ bed, but this feels so much different. It could be the way that Cas doesn’t hesitate when Sam yanks his shirt off, or the way that Cas just lets Sam roll him onto his back so he can straddle his lap and latch his mouth onto Cas’ skin, but Sam’s getting the feeling like Cas isn’t going to stop him this time.

Feeling like his skin is too hot, like it might burn right through his clothes, Sam sits up to hurriedly unbutton his own shirt. Looking down, he can practically see Cas’ heart beating under his flushed chest, the look behind his eyes that Sam can’t identify because Cas is too busy drinking in all of Sam instead of looking into his eyes. When Sam  _ finally _ shucks off his plaid shirt and practically tears off his undershirt, he immediately leans back down to bring their lips back together. Cas’ grip on his sides tighten as he rolls up into Sam’s body, and Sam’s already feeling like he’s swimming in his own skin. Thanks to his rampant teenage virgin hormones, it’s going to take the force of a goddamn freight train to stop him.

Sam shimmies down Cas’ body and kisses over his cheek and to his neck, moving his hands to the buttons on Cas’ pants. Sam can feel Cas’ pulse throbbing under his tongue and his teeth, can hear how loud Cas’ shaky breaths are over the sound of “Moonage Daydream” playing from the record player. “Sam-” Cas chokes out around a thick swallow that Sam follows with his lips.

“ _ Cas _ ,” Sam groans, popping open the button of Cas’ jeans and sucking a bruise onto Cas’ collarbone.

“Sam, I think-” Cas’ words are cut off by a moan when Sam reaches under the fabric of his pants. “ _ God _ \- Sam, Sam, Sam,” Cas rushes out, his hands gripping Sam’s biceps urgently. 

Something in his tone makes Sam stop and look up at Cas, breathlessly pushing back the hair in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“We talked about this,” Cas says, not visibly shaking, but Sam can practically feel his skin vibrating. “We were going to make your…  _ our _ first time special.”

Sam takes his hand out of Cas’ pants and brings his lips to Cas’ for a soft, reassuring kiss. “I want this, Cas.” Sam pulls back just enough to look down into Cas’ eyes and lose himself in the middle of the ocean they always bring him to. “I want you. And… It is special. It’s you, and that’s all I need for it to be special.” The look in Cas’ eyes softens, and Sam smiles. “Don’t worry so much. I’m ready. Okay?”

Cas’ chin tips up and down slowly, and Sam nods in return before kissing Cas again. “Besides,” Sam mumbles as he returns to trailing his lips down the curves of Cas’ chest. “You know what you’re doing.” Sam sloppily kisses over Cas’ stomach, biting into the skin of his abdomen as he tugs off Cas’ pants. “I trust you.”

“I haven’t-” Cas’ voice shakes enough to falter, and Sam looks up again, ready to deflect whatever other things Cas is worried about. He stops what he’s doing and waits for Cas to find his words. “It’s my… I mean, I don’t…”

Understanding finally washes over Sam, and he sits back up to look at Cas’ face. “Cas… Are you a virgin?” Cas swallows, and Sam can see the panic behind his features, and he knows. His first reaction is confusion because Cas isn’t really like him. He wasn’t in chess club, he was friends with Dean throughout school, for Christ’s sake. “How?”

Cas is taken aback by Sam’s question. “How-?”

“You- you went to college!” is the highly intelligent argument that Sam has at the ready, and it kind of makes sense. Around here, if you made it out of high school with your V-Card still in tact, you definitely lost it in college. Seriously, it’s the 70’s- what  _ else _ is there to do besides screw around?

Cas chuckles humorlessly for a second and he wipes a hand over his face. “Ah, yes, I forgot. Oliviet  _ Nazarene  _ University won the award for ‘Most Sexually Progressive University in the Midwest.’ Really, how could I forget the motto of the Class of 1979: ‘God Loves the Gays and So Do We,’” he mumbles, voice dripping heavily with sarcasm.

Sam rolls his eyes at the dryness of Cas’ sarcasm. “But you’re just- you-” His voice trails off as he shakes his head, not finding the words.

“I just never had the chance, Sam,” Cas cuts him off. “Nobody… It’s just- it’s not easy.”

Sam pauses for a moment, his mind still swarming with doubt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I thought you’d react kind of like this,” Cas admits dryly.

“I’m sorry, I just…” Sam feels lied to, in a way- even though Cas never really said he  _ wasn’t _ a virgin, Sam realizes as an afterthought. But this whole time they’ve been…  _ whatever _ , Cas has made excuses to stop from going all the way because Sam’s been the virgin. It’s been Sam’s  _ stupid _ 17-year-old virginity in the way and the fact that Cas wanted to make everything right for Sam. 

Maybe it’s all been an excuse because Cas didn’t want Sam to be his first. “Is it me?” Sam finally brings himself to ask. “You don’t want your first time to be with me?”

When Cas is quiet, Sam looks up to see the hurt in Cas’ face. “How could you think that?” Cas whispers as his hands find Sam’s.

Sam’s fingers tighten around Cas’ as he shrugs. “I don’t know! We never went all the way because you said you wanted my first time to be special, and… And I want this  _ so much _ , but maybe… I don’t know- maybe you want your first time to be with someone better than me.”

Cas mutters something and brings Sam’s head down for a gentle kiss. “I just want it to be great,” he whispers afterwards. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Sam chews on his own bottom lip. “Well, we’re not going to get any better by  _ not _ doing it.” At that, Cas chuckles a little, and Sam smiles. “We’ll just have to… figure it out. If you want.”

Cas nods slightly. “I do.”

Sam nods in return and takes Cas’ top lip between his own. And that’s all it takes to dissolve the unpleasantness of the moment; it all melts away in the kiss that outweighs their lack of experience, outweighs their youthful self-doubt. Sam pulls back to make sure Cas really wants this, and when he sees the unwavering look of certainty in Cas’ eyes, he knows. “Alright. So, we’ll figure it out together. How hard can it be?”

 

**3:45am**

“Led Zeppelin is going to blow the roof off of Chicago Stadium!” Jo screams from the top of her lungs, her hands cupped around her mouth for added volume. Her voice echoes faintly in the crisp night air, hitting the metal bleachers around the football field and bouncing back off. She laughs and teeters a little before cupping her mouth again and letting out a loud holler. 

“Shut up- unless you  _ want _ someone to call the cops,” Meg tells her, tugging on the end of Jo’s jeans and urging her to sit back down. Jo finally sits back down, putting most of her bodyweight on Dean when she does so. 

Dean chuckles and takes a long swig from the half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. They’d left the bonfire after finding Charlie tripping on psychedelics with some other math geeks, fearing she’d run away or get lost in the woods where none of them could find her. None of them had wanted to go home, so instead they came here: the football stadium behind Lawrence High School. Dean doesn’t even remember whose idea it was- maybe his- but this just seemed like a good place to sit and fuck around.

Now, it’s just the six of them sitting in the End Zone- Dean with Jo’s head in his lap, Charlie beside her, laying on her back and probably still tripping, watching the sky melt or something. Ash is laying right next to her doing the exact same thing because he was the only one in the rest of their group that didn’t say no to shrooms when offered. Meg and Benny are being weird and drunkenly mumbling in each other’s ears every now and then. Dean’s not sure when that started, but he’s really not sure he approves.

“She’s right, though,” Dean adds to the conversation, pointing with his hand currently holding the whiskey bottle. “Zeppelin  _ rules. _ Chicago Stadium is gonna be bitchin’.”

“ _ Exactly _ ,” Jo slurs with a giant, sedated smile. “I’m so glad you’re com’n with us.” Jo reaches a hand up to pat the side of Dean’s face, and he rolls his eyes. “You’re good-” Jo hiccups for a second. “You’re a… a real  _ groovy dude _ . Y’know that?”

“You are so trashed,” Dean notes with a laugh. 

“You’re too!” Jo sits up to look at everyone else and point at Dean. “He’s drunk! Tell ‘im!”

“You’re both drunk off your asses,” Benny mentions with a smirk as he reaches for the whiskey bottle. 

Jo makes a humming noise and makes a weird face. “Okay, that’s true.” Dean and Jo break out into laughter and Jo falls back into his lap. “But I still have my dignity!” She sticks her pointer finger in the air with seriousness. “ _ And _ I haven’ gotten into a  _ single _ fight!” She spreads her fingers and shows Dean her knuckles proudly before patting him on the chest. “You neither!”

It’s kind of sad, but Dean and Jo are usually the first people ready to brawl when their group goes out. It’s not their fault people just know how to push their buttons. “The night is still young,” Benny mentions with a tip of his head, and Dean concedes with a helpless shrug.

“We’re all drunk,” Charlie practically mumbles, still unmoving from her spot. “If you think about it.”

Dean and Jo exchange looks, fighting back another laugh. “Far out,” Ash whispers whimsically at the same volume. “Like… The government keeps us drunk on the media, man. They force trashy mags and subliminal messaging in the music on the radio down our throats in some sort of metaphorical beer funnel. They keep us drunk and stupid because they fear that we have the power to start a revolution.”

“You’re right, you’re  _ so right _ ,” Charlie whispers. 

Jo’s the first one to break the resolve to not laugh, biting it back and practically spitting on Dean a little as she busts out laughing, but all that does is make Dean laugh even harder. “Okay, no more drugs for the hippie twins,” Meg suggests.

“Drugs are the key to unlock all of the secrets of the universe, dude,” Charlie says almost robotically, still lost in her daze.

“Do you ever feel like maybe we’re kindred spirits?” Ash mumbles to Charlie. Charlie nods, not turning her gaze to Ash, but that’s fine because Ash hasn’t moved either. “Amigos for life.”

“Word.”

“Maybe you and I should trip together one day,” Dean mentions to Jo, slapping her shoulder when the idea hits him. “We can become  _ kindred spirits _ .”

“Oh yeah?” Jo returns with a humoring smile. Dean nods and waggles his eyebrows and Jo nods back, rolling her eyes. She snatches the bottle from where it sits in front of Meg and takes a swig from it. “Dream on.”

Dean shrugs it off and lazily bobs his head to the song stuck in his head. “How’s unemployment treatin’ you so far?” Benny asks Dean, nudging him with his elbow.

Dean takes a deep, drunken sigh and shrugs. “If every night’s gonna be like this… I could get used to it.”

Benny chuckles and Meg falls into his side comfortably. “I’m jealous of you, Deano. That place  _ sucks _ ,” she says with a shake of her head. “I’m gonna quit.”

“No, you ain’t,” Benny mumbles. Meg mutters something under her breath, and Benny shakes with a single laugh. “You’ll find somethin’, brother. Maybe this is your chance to make it outta here. Who knows?”

“Mm,” is Dean’s entire response. This definitely isn’t something he cares to talk about right now. He’s finally drunk enough to escape his issues for the night, and he doesn’t want it all to come tumbling down just yet. Instead, he just gazes around the football field deep in his memories from years lost and absently runs his fingers through Jo’s soft but slightly tangled hair.

“The universe isn’t done with you yet, Dean,” Charlie mentions.

Dean furrows his brow at her, but Ash is the next to speak. “The universe knows all, man. You just gotta listen to her.”

“I don’t think I’m lookin’ to take life advice from some invisible lady in the sky,” Dean remarks dryly as he takes the bottle from Jo’s loose grasp and drinks. He lets the conversation get subsided, taking enjoyment in the silence of the following moments.

Dean watches the way the moon and stars reflect off of the dampness of the fake grass, breathes in the new morning air. “Lot of memories out here, man,” he mentions to Benny. Benny grins and nods, wrapping his arm around Meg’s shoulders and looking out across the field with Dean. “Lot of memories.”

“I remember that time we dared you to run across the field stark naked,” he replies with a chuckle.

Dean laughs and nods. “I sure did, too, boy.”

“Cold night.”

Dean punches Benny in the shoulder and the group laughs. “Oh, man… I had my first kiss out here, too.”

“Really?” Jo asks, looking up at him from his lap.

Dean nods, lost in memory. “Sandy Newman. Right there on the 50 yard line.” Dean sighs, absently twirling the ends of Jo’s hair around his index finger. He nods towards the bleachers with his chin. “Got to second base with her under those bleachers.”

Jo slaps his chest with the back of her hand, and he chuckles. “Romantic,” Meg adds. Dean winks at her with a grin. “I still can’t believe it’s over.”

“The whole decade is  _ over _ ,” Jo says in mild disbelief. 

“The 70s sucked,” Dean mutters bitterly. “Good riddance.”

“Yeah, they sucked, but I have a feeling that the 80s are gonna be great. It’s a new decade, a new…  _ beginning _ ,” she finishes quietly. “The world is growin’ up, and we gotta grow up with it.”

“The times, they are a-changin’,” Benny mumbles with raised eyebrows. Jo points to him like he said the right thing, and Dean just nods along. 

Maybe it is time for him to grow up. Everyone sitting in this damp field right now, drunk from a night of partying, is out of high school and in the real world. Jo, Charlie and Meg will be starting their classes at KU on Monday morning, Ash has been taking night classes all summer to help him get into a good tech college, and Benny’s been at the restaurant so long, he’s saved up a good hunk of change to put towards that restaurant he wants to open. All of them are going to be grown-ups when 1980 rolls around in a few months… But where does that leave Dean?

Who knows? Maybe he’ll get his GED. Maybe he’ll even look into taking some classes at the community college. He’ll have some time to himself when Sam leaves him high and dry when he graduates next summer and runs off to Stanford. That’s a good time to run his train of thought off the rails, and he takes himself out of his daze. They have all the time in the world to grow up, but they still have their youth tonight, so Dean plans to embrace it while he can.

“I think the Wonder Twins might have passed out,” Dean observes, looking at Charlie and Ash carefully. 

Benny takes a deep sigh. “Might be time to call it a night. You cool to drive?” Dean nods and they all start getting up. 

Dean reaches a hand down for Jo to take as she lifts onto her bare feet, taking her shoes in one hand. Dean kicks Ash in the side lightly to grab his attention, and when Ash looks up, Dean nods silently. Ash starts to get up, and Jo falls behind to help Charlie get up, and Dean walks ahead with Benny and Meg. 

Suddenly, Jo’s jumping on his back with no warning, but she laughs and wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to latch on. “Onward, steed!” Dean chuckles and hops a little to jostle her around, wrapping his forearms under her knees comfortably. 

Jo starts to hum the song that’s been stuck in Dean’s head all night, and Dean grins. “ _ Whatever happened to all this season’s losers of the year, _ ” Dean sings. “ _ Every time I got to thinkin’ where’d they disappear- _ ”

“ _ When I woke up, Mom and Dad are rollin’ on the couch! _ ” Jo chimes in loudly.

Dean grins. “ _ Rollin’ numbers, rock and rollin’, got my Kiss records out _ ,” they sing more confidently as they cross the field.

“ _ Mommy’s alright, Daddy’s alright, they just seem a little weird _ ,” everyone else chimes in together at varying levels. 

“ _ Surrender! _ ” Dean exclaims the loudest, taking off at a jog and spinning in a circle.

“Surrender!” Jo parrots in a loud yell from her place on his back.

“ _ But don’t give yourself away, _ ” they sing to the rest of the group that had fallen behind. “ _ Ay, ay-ay!” _

 

**4:20am**

Ash’s watch beeps from where he sits in the seat next to Jo, and he makes a noise like he just realized something very important. “Last one of the night,” he says as he fishes something out of his pocket. He takes out a joint, bent and curved from being in his pocket, straightens it out and puts it between his lips. “Saved it. Last 4:20 of the summer.”

Jo peers at him curiously. “That can’t be right.”

“It’s not,” Meg interjects from the seat in front of Jo. “There’s another one in the afternoon. Plus another one if you count the one Monday morning-”

“Details,” Ash dismisses as he lights the joint. He’s been smoking so much, his eyelids look like they weigh a hundred pounds. Jo can’t really judge though, since she’s barely managing to stay upright in the car. On her other side, Charlie’s already passed out cold with her head resting against the window. Ash goes to hand the joint to Jo, but keeps it just out of reach for a moment before letting her have it with a sedated grin.

Jo takes a long drag from the paper and looks at it through slotted eyes. “You know that 420 thing is never gonna stick, right?” She takes another hit before handing it to someone in the front seat. “It’ll die right along with the Deadheads.”

“Live long and prosper,” Charlie mumbles in her sleep. 

“Hey- make sure she doesn’t hurl chunks back there, alright?” Dean directs over his shoulder.

“She’s  _ fine _ ,” Jo assures him, bouncing in her seat as he takes the speed bumps on her road too quickly. Jo leans over and puts her head on his arm currently resting across the back of the front seat, and he glances at her curiously. “I’m sorry you had a bad day, Dean.”

Dean’s back stiffens for a second before he gives her a brief, passive look. “Not your fault.” Within a moment, the car’s coming to a stop in front of her driveway, and Dean glances back at her again. “Your stop, kid.”

Jo smiles at him a little and lifts a finger to brush an eyelash off of his cheek. “It’ll get better.” Dean doesn’t say anything, so Jo leans up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I promise.”

Jo moves to wake Charlie, who startles awake exclaiming, “Merry Christmas!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Merry Christmas. Let’s go,” Jo mutters to Charlie, pushing her insistently. Still sleepy, Charlie opens the door and slides out. Jo climbs out after her and pokes her head back in the door. “Mama’s cookin’ breakfast in the morning. You wanna crash on the cot?” 

Ash perks up and nods, immediately getting out of the car and joining them. “Where’s my invitation?” Dean calls out before Jo can shut the door.

“Feel free to swing by. Unless you wanna have breakfast with whatever girl was wearing those panties laying on your floorboard back there.” 

Everyone “ooh”s at the same time, and Dean looks over the back of the seat to the floorboard. When he sees the panties and looks back, Jo winks at him. Dean makes a face, and Jo gives the three of them in the car a small wave before tapping the hood and walking up the drive. 

Charlie, looking like she can barely stand without melting, waits for her, and Jo takes one of Charlie’s arms and slings it over her own shoulder before walking her towards the house. Ash already knows where the spare key is and finds it in the mailbox, taking it out and unlocking the front door by the time the girls get there. Jo shushes them both quiet and tries to tiptoe to her room.

“That better be you, Joanna Beth,” Ellen calls from her own bedroom at the end of the hall. 

Jo flinches as she reaches for her doorknob. “It’s us, Mama,” she calls back out. 

“And I know you weren’t drinkin’, right?” 

The three of them chuckle silently. “Of course not, Mama.” Ash opens the bedroom door and doesn’t bother turning on the light before pulling out the cot from the closet. “Goodnight!”

Her mom calls out a knowing goodnight, and Jo shuts her bedroom door behind her before letting Charlie fall down onto the bed. She’s no help at all when Jo tries to undo her denim overalls and Jo trips over some discarded clothes on the ground. “I thought tonight would end the other way around,” Jo slurs to herself quietly. “Me, passed out, and you having to help  _ me _ -” Jo almost falls off the bed when she finally tugs the overalls off. “But you had to go and eat those shrooms.” Charlie giggles a little without opening her eyes, and Jo shakes her head with a smile. “Dweeb.”

“Buenas noches, ladies,” Ash mumbles from his place somewhere in the dark, having already made himself comfortable on the spare cot.

Jo slides out of her own jeans before getting back into the bed with Charlie and pulling the big comforter over both of them and cozying up to Charlie’s body heat. Charlie cozies right back and lets Jo fit against her back and wrap her arms around Charlie’s waist. 

“Mm, love you, babe,” Jo mutters into Charlie’s hair after making herself comfortable.

Charlie hums in her sleep and turns her head enough for Jo to plant a brief kiss to her lips. “Love you.”

 

**5:00am**

Dean, reluctant to leave himself alone, takes his time dropping off the rest of the gang. The car ride is quiet, and Dean’s head is still swimming from all of the alcohol from tonight. “So, you two…” Dean starts, disrupting the silence and glancing at his friends. “Are you, like… A thing?”

“A thing?” Meg repeats with a quirked eyebrow.

“Yeah. Y’know… A couple.” Benny and Meg exchange a look and passive shrug. Dean looks back to the road. “Yeah, that's an answer. Man, I'm always the last to know everything.”

Benny chuckles and pats him on the top of the back. “You'll be alright.”

“Shut up,” Dean mutters with a single laugh.

When they finally roll up to Benny’s apartment, Dean turns to them. “I can drop you off at home, Meg. No biggie.” Meg gives him an amused look before getting out of the car behind Benny, and Benny leans down to give Dean a look through the window. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Get home safe, brother,” Benny says as he pats the window sill. 

Meg waves from where she stands a few feet away. “Night, Deano.” 

Dean gives them one last parting two-finger wave and heads home. Immediately, Dean’s right back to square one: stuck in his car with nothing but the faint sound of the radio and his stream of thoughts circulating around his never-ending problems.

Before he left for the night, he and Sam had a  _ big _ fight, and Dean had even grounded Sam. No doubt, Sam spent all night stewing in his teenage angst and went to bed even more mad at Dean than he was before- and even more determined to get as far from him as humanly possible at his first opportunity. The issue definitely hasn’t been resolved by any means, and they’re bound to have another fight about it soon.

But Dean doesn’t want to have another fight. He doesn’t want to face Sam at all, honestly. He just needs to crash somewhere safe- with someone understanding, who won’t ask questions. His first thought is Cas, for obvious reasons. He doesn’t make it to his second thought before he’s pulling his car out of his own driveway and making his way to Cas’ apartment.

 

**5:25am**

For a mildly crappy day, things turned out pretty amazingly for Sam. As it turned out, their first time was special. It probably wasn’t the most graceful or coordinated sex in the world; they ended up laughing and shifting around a lot more than Sam had pictured in his mind, but it was him and Cas, and it was perfect. And afterwards, it might’ve been a little difficult for either of them to sit down, but whatever, that was perfect, too. They figured it out together, and that’s all that mattered. When Sam fell asleep a while later, his limbs tangled in a mess with Castiel’s, he’d never felt better.

Disrupting his pleasant dreams, Sam is startled awake by the sound of loud, insistent rapping on the door of Cas’ apartment. He sits upright, peering into the darkness of the room like maybe he hadn't actually heard anything- maybe it was just a dream because Cas didn't wake right up. Less than a few seconds after it stops, the knocking comes again, and this time Cas does wake up. 

“What's going on?” Cas asks groggily, rubbing one eye with his fingers. 

“Someone’s at the door.”

The knocking comes again, and Cas makes a grumpy noise as he gets out of bed. Grumbling under his breath about the ungodly hour, he looks out the peephole. “It's Dean,” Cas whispers urgently as he turns to Sam. In a split second, Sam goes from groggy confusion to wide awake panic and scrambles out of bed as fast as he can. 

“Cas!” Dean calls out from his place on the other side of the door, knocking even louder than before. 

“Just a second,” Cas calls back out. After Sam hides in the closet- a stupid decision, he decides moments after making it- Cas finally opens the door. “Dean, what-”

“Hey, man.” And, of course, Dean’s drunk off of his ass. Sam can only see through the slits in the closet door, but it's at least a little bit clearer when Cas flicks on the lamp. 

“What are you doing here so early?” 

Dean makes his way inside and immediately goes stumbling to the fridge. “Is it early? Thought it was late.” 

“Dean-”

After finding nothing to his satisfaction, Dean kicks the refrigerator door shut. “It stinks like sex in here,” he observes. Sam swallows thickly and holds his breath, afraid of moving even a fraction of an inch. Dean goes to playfully tap Cas in the abdomen with the back of his hand. “You dog! You scored some tail last night, didn't you?”

Cas shifts around awkwardly, just watching as Dean stumbles around his apartment and flops down on the pulled-out mattress. “You still haven't told me what you're doing here,” is Castiel’s stilted reply.

Suddenly, Sam spots his clothes discarded in a pile next to the bed and kicks himself for not remembering to hide them. Instead, he's standing in a closet literally five feet away from his brother, wearing nothing but his boxers, hoping to  _ God _ his brother doesn't find out about the thing he's been hiding for so long. 

“I don't really wanna talk about it,” Dean says as he makes his head comfortable on the pillow Sam’s head had just been sleeping on less than five minutes earlier. “It's Sam, man. But you just… You wouldn't get it.” Sam swallows again and feels a guilty heat rushing under his skin.

Cas takes a deep sigh, still standing around stiff as a board. “If you want to talk about it, we can talk in the morning-”

“Nah, I just need some place to crash. I don't think I can go home.”

Cas is really quiet for a moment, but his eyes flicker up to the closet where Sam is currently hidden, and Cas shakes his head. “I don't really have the room-”

“Come on, dude, it's not a big deal. We used to share a bed all the time. Not like I’m queer- I'm not gonna try to get in your pants or somethin’.” Dean chuckles easily. “You’re a pretty dude, but you’re not  _ that _ pretty.”

Sam backs away from the door as much as he can- which isn't much, given the fact that he has maybe two inches of movable space- because he's afraid his heart is beating so hard, it's hitting the closet door he's pressed against. “I'm sorry, Dean, you know I would, but…”

Dean sits up in bed and a knowing grin spreads on his lips. “She’s still here, isn’ she?” 

“Please-” Cas tries to stop Dean as Dean stands up, and Sam’s heart is about to beat directly out of his chest. His chest cavity is going to literally explode and get blood all over the place- or Dean’s going to rip him to shreds. Either way, Cas’ apartment is about to look like a murder scene. Maybe it’ll turn out for the best- his wallpaper’s outdated anyways, at least then he’ll be able to get them redone. Y’know, because of the homicidal blood spatter. 

“Why’s she hiding? What, is she, like… a six? Five?” Dean asks, leaning into Castiel before checking the bathroom. “Because there’s no shame in doggin’ less than a dime, Cas.” Dean’s voice trails into the bathroom and Sam can hear the shower curtain being pushed back. “A score is a score.”

Cas follows him around closely, his insistence on Dean leaving being brushed over by Dean’s drunken determination. “There’s nobody here, Dean- I have to get up early to go see my parents-”

“Oh, shove it, Cas, I know you’re not going to see your parents.” 

Sam feels like he’s a split second away from either throwing up, fainting, dying of a heart attack, or all three at once. He can’t catch his breath, too afraid to breathe for fear that Dean would hear him. He can barely hear Dean and Cas’ bickering from the sound of his own rapid pulse pounding in his ears. Dean’s not normally like this, Sam’s sure. He should just  _ leave  _ if he knew Cas was hiding someone here, so why the hell is he so determined to prove something tonight? Dean’s a fucking jerk.

When Dean’s eyes land on the last place left to look, he nods. “I guess nobody’s here…” He says coyly. Sam braces himself and fights back the urge to throw up when Dean suddenly yanks the door open, much to Cas’ shouted objection.

“Dean!” Sam and Cas exclaim at the same time.

“Wh- S- J- What-” Dean stumbles around, backing away from the closet with a panicked, confused look on his face as he stares at Sam. “Sam? What the hell-”

“Dean, I can explain,” Sam and Cas start at the same time again.

“Well, somebody had better start explaining  _ something _ !” Sam and Cas both start talking at the same time, neither with a good lie to cover up what’s really going on, and it just seems to give Dean a headache because he squeezes his eyes shut and presses the heels of his palms to his temples. “One at a time!”

Instinctively, Sam backs away to Cas’ side, trying to put some space between Dean and them, but Dean steps closer. “I- I- I- I needed a place to sleep. I- I was mad a-after our fight,” Sam stumbles out clumsily, tripping briefly over Cas’ discarded shoes on the floor. “And Cas let me sleep over here.”

Dean looks like he wants to believe it, like his brain is trying to put it together, and Sam desperately wishes he would just believe it, but Dean shakes his head and Sam’s chest feels like it’s caving in on himself. “I don’t believe you,” he says, dangerously quietly. Dean turns his eyes to Cas, the anger rising in his chest obvious. “What the fuck is going on here, Cas?”

“Dean,” Cas starts evenly, putting a hand out and wordlessly placing himself in front of Sam. “We can talk about this calmly. Maybe when you’ve sobered up-”

“We’ll talk about this now!” Dean barks, the veins in his forehead bulging. Sam flinches at his voice. “Tell me what the hell is going on.” When Cas doesn’t go to speak immediately, Dean shouts, “ _ Now! _ ”

Cas and Sam both flinch this time. “S-Sam… and… I…” Cas tries to speak, but it comes out more like a breath. “We…”

Dean looks like he’s somewhere between throwing up, crying, or punching a hole in the wall. “There’s a  _ we _ ?” Dean closes his eyes for a second and shakes his head again. 

Cas looks like he’s not even sure of what he’s about to say. “Y-yes.” Dean’s eyes snap open, and Sam could swear he’s never seen so much anger behind his eyes. “There is a we-”

“Oh my God,” he mutters in disbelief. He pauses for a moment, trying to find his words. “I know my  _ best friend _ can’t be butt-fucking my  _ brother _ \- because  _ somebody _ would’ve told me.” When neither Cas nor Sam go to respond, Dean swallows thickly and looks at Cas with so much feeling… So much anger, disgust, betrayal. “My  _ little brother _ ? You just-”

“It’s not what you think, Dean,” Cas tries to explain.

“It looks pretty damn clear, Cas!”

“Go home, Dean!” Sam finally spits out, walking forward before he even knows what he’s doing.

“Sam,” Dean and Cas warn at the same time. Dean steps into Cas’ space dangerously. “Don’t you fucking say his name like that.”

“We can have this conversation calmly, or we won’t have it at all,” Cas tells Dean evenly as he backs up protectively towards Sam, and finally his voice has an edge to it. 

“There’s no conversation! This is  _ not _ happening!” Dean snaps, his eyes burning holes into Cas’ face. “Sam, grab your shit and let’s go.”

Sam shouts ‘no’ at the same time Cas says, “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“ _ Sam _ ,” Dean growls, glaring at him furiously. Sam swallows and holds his ground. “Cas, you need to get out of my way, and step the hell away from my little brother,” he adds, his voice sharp enough to cut into Sam’s skin.

“Please, Dean,” Sam begs, his voice teetering on the edge of breaking. “Go home.”

“This is not the time- you’re not thinking clearly,” Cas tries to rationalize with Dean.

“If you thought you could fuck my baby brother and turn him queer, you’re the one not thinking clearly!” Dean barks, stepping even closer and shoving Cas in the chest.

“You need to get out of my apartment right now,” Cas warns, stepping up to Dean with determination. “Go.”

“Not without my brother,” Dean growls, getting closer until they’re practically chest-to-chest. 

Sam feels like he’s about to burst out of his skin, and he’s seconds away from losing it. “Get the hell out, Dean!” Sam shouts stubbornly.

Both of the older guys turn their attention to him, and Dean growls “Sam” at the same time Cas pleads it. Before Sam can even blink, Dean’s shoving Cas with so much force, Cas practically falls right into Sam. “What the fuck did I say about saying his name like that?”

Cas takes no more than a half second to steady himself and shove Dean just as hard in return. Dean makes a crazed, animalistic noise from the depth of his core and shoves Cas again. When Cas goes to grab Dean by the collar to push him, Dean’s bowing back and punching him square in the nose with a mean right-hook. 

“Cas!” Sam shouts as he rushes to Cas’ side when Cas’ hand goes to his nose, and he can already see blood spilling down his mouth. Instinctively, he steps into Dean’s space and pushes him harshly until Dean’s back hits the cabinet next to the door.

“How the hell could you do this to me?” Dean yells over Sam’s shoulder, and judging by the fact that he’s still glaring at Cas, Sam thinks this one’s not for him. “How could you do this to  _ him _ ? He’s a fucking kid!”

“I’m not a kid!”

“Dean, get the hell out of my house before I call the cops,” Cas threatens from right next to Sam, one hand pointing to the door and one still holding his bloody nose.

“Call them! You can tell them how you’ve been molesting my kid brother-”

“I love him!” Sam barks over both of their voices. 

And finally something shuts Dean up. With a heaving chest and blood-red face, Dean’s eyes flicker up to Sam’s, and it’s only then Sam realizes he’s already taller than Dean. But maybe it only seems that way right now. The moment is so silent compared to just a second before, Sam thinks maybe he’s gone deaf. “You…” Dean practically whispers, his voice faltering so roughly. His brow tenses tighter, looking into Sam’s eyes for something- like maybe he’s trying to figure out if Sam’s choosing Cas over him.

Sam swallows back whatever is rising in his throat, not letting his eyes waver from Dean’s. “Go home, Dean,” Cas repeats, quieter. Dean doesn’t even look at Cas again; he takes a moment longer to bore his eyes into Sam before he tears away and turns heel, slamming the door behind him as he leaves.

The first tear falls from Sam’s eye when he flinches at the force the door makes as it slams. “Are you okay?” Sam whispers, turning back to Cas, ignoring the next tear that slips down his scorching cheek.

“I’m fine, Sam,” Cas dismisses his worries calmly. He reaches a hand up to Sam’s cheek and brushes his thumb over the wetness. Immediately, Sam’s chin trembles and he collapses in on himself. Cas is there to catch him, and he wraps his arms around Sam, letting Sam bury his face in the crook of Cas’ neck as he cries. 

 

**6:45am**

It's a strange, empty feeling that Dean is currently experiencing. Despite all the booze he drank- _ is drinking _ , rather- he feels empty. Despite all the relentless shit he's been handed all day, he feels  _ empty _ . The bottle of whiskey being brought up to his lips- unfortunately, also empty. Not like it matters, though. There comes a point during a night of binge drinking that you stop getting more drunk and just end up wanting to fade from existence- kind of like in  _ Star Trek _ when a crew member beams up to or from The Enterprise and their body atomizes? Kinda like that. 

Dean sets the empty glass bottle on the cold metal bench at his side and sits forward, resting his elbows on his lap. The football stadium is hauntingly quiet- not that that's entirely a bad thing, he needed some peace and quiet to think. The bleachers are damp and cold with morning condensation, the dampness already permeated through the backside of Dean’s jeans and left his butt numb. It's whatever. The sky is this really pale mix of colors, though, it’s kinda decent- some blue but mostly grey. It'll probably rain later. If not today, maybe Monday.

Dean’s having a hard time reliving the course of the past 24 hours. He can't figure out for the life of him how everything ended up turning into shit. He lost his crappy excuse for a job- he hated it, but at least it paid the bills. Then he found Sam’s Stanford application in the mail, and that… That just made everything  _ so much better. _ The fight was just the whipped cream on his goddamn sundae. But then it was okay for a while, right? His friends kind of took his mind off of everything. But then it just… Blew up. Like blowing up the Death Star blew up. 

Obviously Sam had been really worried about how Dean would react to his… news… And obviously, Dean pretty much lived up to his expectations. How was he supposed to react, though? Sammy is his  _ kid brother _ \- the same kid that gets his hair cut by Dean with some kitchen scissors in their bathroom, the same kid that used to make Dean measure him in the bedroom doorway to keep track of his height because he was so sure his growth spurt would hit any day, the kid that would let Dean hide his stolen porno mags under his mattress so their parents wouldn't find them just because Dean asked him to. It was like  _ yesterday _ that he was crying because he thought the mouse died on the new episode of Tom & Jerry.

And now he's supposed to be some grown ass man doing… God knows what- with a fucking adult? Another man, at that. An  _ older _ man. The same guy that had been Dean’s  _ best friend _ . They went through puberty together, for Christ’s sake, that’s pretty much we-both-fought-together-in-’Nam levels of bonding. There’s the cherry on top.

So they’re gay.. _.  _ That's not  _ normal _ around here. Dean actually heard of some kid getting shipped off to Jesus Camp in the hopes of being “switched back to normal.” Sure, maybe Dean swung a punch, but he would never go that far with Sam. Sam’s a good kid, and if he wants to… cross streams or whatever it is they do- then, Dean shouldn't stand in the way of that. Maybe being gay makes Sam happy. Hell, that's what gay means, isn't it? Happy? Dean just has to adjust, is all.

Maybe it's all for the best, Sam hating him. It'll make it easier on Sam to get away, that way Dean won't hold him back from following his dreams, or whatever. After the fight, there's absolutely no chance Sam would ever stay- he’s probably at home packing his shit and moving in with… Whatever. But maybe this will be good for Sam. He can finally get rid of the dead weight he calls an older brother, and he can actually do something with his life. Maybe… Whatever.

Dean takes a deep sigh and wishes he had more to drink as he puts his face in his hands, pushing the heels of his palms into his heavy eyes. When he looks back out onto the field, it looks the exact same as it always has. All of the years that have passed, the games, the rallies, the memories, it still looks the exact same. That's the beauty of something that gets taken care of routinely, though. When you just let the universe take its course and don't really try to improve, the years start to show. And then what are you left with? Overgrown grass, weeds, rust on the bleachers, God knows what else- until eventually people just forget it exists and it dies out. Maybe that’s what will happen to Dean.

Looking out onto the field always takes him back to his glory days, when the world was a happy place for him and his future looked bright. He could've gone to college on a football scholarship; that's the way things were going, anyways. Then the accident happened, and Dean and Sam’s lives flipped upside down right along with that Volkswagen. Dean spiraled before he even knew what he was doing. Within a year, he’d dropped out of high school and ruined any chance he had at playing college ball. Now, he's 21 and in the exact same place. Still smoking too much weed, drinking too much booze, blowing through too many too-young broads, and doing absolutely nothing. Sam still has a chance, though. 

He needs to fix this. Granted, he needs to fix a lot of things before shit gets worse, but Sam has to be a priority. When his future looks abysmal at best, fixing this thing between him and Sam is kind of like putting duct tape over a giant hole in the ceiling, but hey, if it'll hold something together long enough for Dean to catch his breath, then it's good enough.

 

**8:00am**

When Cas’ alarm goes off, it's so quiet, it's almost as if Sam heard it from a great distance as opposed to it being on the end table. He wasn't even asleep, just kind of existing but not existing, but it somehow woke him up out of a trance. “Sorry,” Cas whispers as he turns it off. Cas only moves for a second before he's still again, Sam’s head on his lap and Cas’ fingers gently gliding through his hair. 

“It's okay,” Sam murmurs back despite the apology being rhetoric. Cas’ dull fingernails scratch over his scalp softly, from his temple to the back of his head over and over, then from the front of his hairline and back- over and over. Sam nestles his head on Cas’ lap closer and sighs. 

He's been staring at the wall in front of him for what must be hours now. After Dean left and Sam’s world crumbled into dust, Cas didn't rush him as he pulled himself together. He let Sam fall to pieces and take his time getting a grip, just comforting him quietly. Eventually they got Cas cleaned up, the blood on his face and his chest was mostly dry by then, and checked to make sure his nose wasn't actually broken. They crawled back into bed, Cas with his back against the back of the couch and Sam’s head in his lap. They didn't speak because what was there to say? For a while, it was so silent, Sam had been certain Cas had fallen back asleep. The alarm clock going off had been the first sound in the apartment for hours.

“How are you feeling?” Cas asks Sam, his voice quiet and rough from being unused. His hand smooths over Sam’s hair, his thumb brushing over Sam’s temple softly.

Sam takes another deep sigh and shrugs a little. “I don't know.” Sam falls quiet again, pressing his own thumb to his lips in thought. Dean had been so angry, so… betrayed and disgusted. This fight on top of the Stanford one, it just seems like Sam’s lost Dean forever even though none of his decisions have been made with bad intentions. He never meant to hurt Dean, but apparently that's all he can seem to do. “I think he hates me,” Sam admits in a whisper.

“He hates  _ me _ ,” Cas corrects dryly. “He could never hate you, Sam.” Sam wants to believe him, but all he can think about is the look in Dean’s eyes the last time he saw him, and he feels like it's hopeless. “He’ll get over it. He loves you too much not to.”

Sam rolls onto his back to look up at Cas, and Cas’ tired, bloodshot eyes gloss over his features and he gives Sam a feeble but reassuring smile. Cas looks so distraught and exhausted. Not like Sam can blame him, Dean was- is still, maybe- Castiel’s best friend, and the fight hadn't just been between Dean and Sam. Cas might've lost someone too, and Sam remembers the hurtful things Dean spat at Cas- on top of punching him in the face, obviously. This can't be easy on him either. 

“What if he doesn't?” Sam tightens his brow and meets Cas’ eyes. “Get over it, I mean.”

Cas sighs deeply, using his other hand resting on the top of the couch to brush through his own thick, tousled hair before propping his cheek up with his fist. He seems to think the question over, looking at Sam’s face like maybe he's hiding the answers, and the hand in Sam’s hair resumes its ministrations. “If he doesn't get over it, then we can run away,” he finally says, the corners of his lips playing with a faint smile.

Sam’s lips quirk up. “Really?” Cas nods and watches his own hand as it pets through Sam’s hair. “What would we do?”

“We would go to California,” he tells Sam without hesitation. Sam waits for him to continue, watching Cas’ face as he talks. “You would finish high school, obviously. Then you would go to Stanford.”

“We could hold hands in public,” Sam interrupts with a grin. 

“We could hold hands in public,” Cas repeats with a nod, his lips spreading into his own grin. “I didn't tell you because I didn't want to put too much pressure on you- or us- but…” Cas pauses, sighs, and finds Sam’s eyes again. “I actually got accepted into a few graduate school programs before I decided to take a year off of school to come back home.”

“Stanford?” Cas nods, and Sam reaches a hand back to touch Castiel’s. “You could’ve told me.” Cas doesn't reply, just runs the pad of his thumb over the curve of Sam’s index finger. “You actually thought about this?” Sam’s surprised since every time Sam suggested they run off, Cas was always ready with reasons why they can't or shouldn't. The vulnerable twitch of Cas’ lips as he sucks them between his teeth is answer enough for Sam. 

Sam sits up and gently presses his lips to Castiel’s, bringing one hand to the side of Cas’ neck. It's not rushed or urgent, just a tender showing of emotions. Sam pulls his lips back and rests their foreheads together, closing his eyes and stroking Cas’ cheek with his thumb thoughtfully. After the moment is over, Sam pulls back and brings his knees up, wrapping his arms around them and resting his chin on his shoulder to look at Cas, whose eyes are cast down, deep in thought.

“I hope he gets over it,” Sam admits meekly. It's the hard truth. It would be so easy to turn this on Dean and get mad, and he could just run away with Cas. They could both be happy out in California, even if Dean hates them both for being the backstabbing homosexuals they are, but Sam knows deep down he couldn't be happy knowing Dean hates him. Sam doesn't even know if he’ll ever be able to leave Dean behind, but there's no way he could leave if things weren't even good between them.

“Me too,” Cas agrees, his voice just as soft. Cas meets his eyes, and Sam knows Cas wants things to be okay between the three of them just as badly. 

Shortly after, there's a knock on the door- knuckles uncertainly rapping on the hardwood as if the person on the other side isn't even sure they want to be there. Cas and Sam exchange looks before Cas gets up to check it, and they both know who’s on the other side. Sam, not wanting a repeat of last time, stands and picks up his thin tee shirt from the floor and puts it on before Cas opens the door. 

Sam shimmies his jeans back on and watches Cas. “Hello, Dean,” Cas greets him evenly.

“Hey, Cas… Can I, um…” Dean’s voice sounds so insecure, Sam’s not even sure it is Dean. “Can I come in?” Cas nods and opens the door enough for Dean to step into the apartment. He doesn't look terribly great either, just sullen and exhausted. When his eyes find Sam, his eyes only hold for a second before sliding down to the floor. “Hey, Sammy.”

“What, uh-” Sam swallows and shifts on his heels. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanna talk, man,” Dean tells him earnestly.

Cas puts his back to the counter and crosses his arms patiently, his eyes intently studying the floor. “So, talk,” Sam finally replies.

Dean sighs and shrugs helplessly. “I'm sorry.” He says it to Sam, whose head drops when he nods. “You're not a kid anymore, and I just… I gotta get over that. You're old enough to make your own decisions, and if you're… Y’know, gay-” Sam huffs a little at the weird way Dean says it. “-Then that's who you are, and you're still my little brother.”

The words make Sam’s heart feel ten sizes too big for his chest, but he lets Dean keep going. “And if you're gay for Cas,” he adds, turning to look at Cas as well. “And you guys make each other happy, then… I just gotta get over it, don't I?”

“Yeah, you do,” Sam replies, the corner of his lip pulling up into a small smirk. Dean looks back to him and he visibly shows his relief that Sam isn't exactly trying to kill him. 

“And Cas- I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“ _ And _ ?” Cas prompts.

“ _ And _ ,” Dean concedes with an eyeroll. “For punching you in the face.”

“ _ And _ ?” Dean peers at him, and Cas raises his eyebrows. “I seem to recall you accusing me of- what was it? Ah yes,  _ ‘molesting your kid brother _ ’.”

Dean sighs. “And for that.”

Cas nods, accepting of the apology, and Dean turns his attention back to Sam. “I should've told you,” Sam tells him, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, some warning would've been nice.”

“-About Cas, and about Stanford,” Sam adds.

“We’ll figure out Stanford later, alright?” Sam nods and the three of them stand around in an awkward silence before Dean claps his hands once. “Last chance to take last night out on me.” Sam huffs a laugh, but stays silent in his place. Dean’s smiling a little, and Sam assumes he meant it rhetorically. Then, Cas is stepping forward and before Sam’s even aware of what he’s doing, Cas is rearing back and punching Dean square in the nose. “ _ Fuck! _ ” Dean groans as he clutches his face and hunches over.

Sam’s jaw drops, and Cas looks up and meets his eyes with a big smile. “Are you hungry?” Sam falters but nods, still aware of Dean’s griping from next to Cas. Cas turns his attention back to Dean. “Dean?”

Dean grumbles a little before standing back up and holding the bridge of his nose, putting his head back a little. He sighs deeply before saying, “I could eat.”

 

**9:30am**

Silence. The waitress brings over their coffees. Silence. Dean clears his throat. More silence. It’s unbearable to sit through.

“Alright, I've got some questions,” Dean finally says, breaking the tension that had settled over the diner booth, much to Castiel’s relief. Dean is sitting on one side of the booth across from Sam and Castiel, the three of them off in a corner by themselves and away from the Sunday morning crowd.

Cas takes a deep breath and sits back in his seat, fingers tapping the rim of his coffee cup. Sam and Cas exchange a look before Cas allows it with, “Feel free.”

“How long have you two been…?” Dean starts, pointing between the both of them suggestively.

The waitress comes back to take their orders, cutting Sam off before he can answer. When she leaves again, Sam watches her leave earshot. “Somewhere towards the beginning of summer,” he says.

Dean nods and shakes his head a little. “That's a long time to not tell me,” he mumbles, wiping the corners of his eyes with his thumb and middle finger. “Okay.” Dean sighs deliberately. “Cas, what are your uh- your intentions?”

Cas holds back a snort as he sips his coffee. “My intentions?” He parrots with a skeptical expression.

“Yeah, if you wanna- y’know- go steady with my little brother, I gotta make sure you're a good dude,” Dean tells him with a strange hand gesture.

“ _ Dean _ ,” Sam gripes out of embarrassment. It's obvious from the redness creeping up on his neck and the tips of his ears. Dean shrugs at him casually.

“Sam and I have been dating for a few months,” Cas answers evenly. “And  _ we  _ intend to continue to do so.” Sam looks over at Cas, and Cas feels himself smiling a little at the crooked grin he loves to see on Sam.

Dean mumbles to himself as he takes a gratuitous drink from his coffee mug before signaling to the waitress for a refill. When the waitress leaves again, Dean sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Anything else you want to interrogate us about?” Sam questions pointedly.

Dean hesitates before he leans forward and lowers his voice. “And you guys…?” His hands grasp awkwardly for the words he can’t find. When he can tell Sam and Cas aren’t getting his point, he points between them and makes a whistling sound, and Sam almost chokes on his coffee.

“Oh my God, are you-” Sam wipes his mouth and looks at Dean incredulously, dropping his voice even lower. “Are you asking if we’re having sex?” Dean nods like it should be obvious- which it was- and Sam and Cas both blush. “ _ Dean _ !”

“What? It's a fair question.”

“We are  _ not _ answering that,” Sam says decisively.

Dean watches both of them squirm until the realization hits him. He immediately puts one of his hands over his face and groans. The waitress comes over to drop off their food and interrupt Dean’s moment. After asking for another round of coffees, she leaves again. When Dean doesn't touch his bacon, his sausage, his eggs, his hash browns,  _ or  _ his short stack, it's obvious that he's still hung up on something. 

“Just ask whatever it is you're wondering,” Cas tells him simply. “As long as it's something you want the answer to.”

Dean hesitates before spilling out, “Who’s the girl?”

Sam falters, but he huffs a laugh before responding. “Pretty sure one of us being  _ the girl  _ would kinda defeat the purpose, Dean,” he whispers sarcastically. Cas smirks proudly and takes a bite of his breakfast sandwich.

“Shut up. I'm asking who’s the, uh- y’know-” Dean makes another strange gesture and looks and them both pointedly. “Who’s the pitcher and who’s the catcher,” he adds quietly out of the side of his mouth.

Sam, on cue, chokes on his waffle. Cas had been bracing himself, and lets out a chuckle. “Are you really going to be satisfied with any answer you get to that question?” Cas asks rhetorically. Dean mulls it over before shaking his head with a concerned look on his face. “That's what I suspected.”

“Now are you done embarrassing me?” Sam questions Dean in a grumble.

“For now,” Dean concedes with a cocky grin. Finally, he digs into his food with his usual enthusiasm, and everything fits into place. The following lull in the conversation isn't awkward, but more like one of those silences people who have known each other for years fall into. It's comfortable. “I've been, uh-” Dean starts through a mouthful of pancakes. “-thinkin’ about taking some classes.”

Sam and Cas both share a surprised look. “That's great,” Sam says, hitting Dean with the back of his hand. 

Dean pretends to look indifferent, but Cas can see the swell of pride that fills him at Sam’s response. “JCCC has rolling enrollment.” Dean’s eyes lift from his plate at Cas’ words. “I could go down to the school with you on Monday.”

Something like gratitude flickers behind Dean’s expression before he breaks into a nonchalant, lighthearted scoff. “What are you, my mom? Come on.” Cas chuckles and shakes his head, letting Dean play off the moment.

Things go back to normal, for the most part. Sam and Castiel are no longer hiding their relationship from Dean, but they can all act like themselves around each other now without the secrecy. Perhaps it's a new and improved version of normal.

To anyone on the outside, they must be quite a sight. Sam, a young man with long, wild hair and wrinkled clothes from last night. Cas, with his messy, unkept hair, the darkness of the bags under his eyes exceeded only by the dark swelling of his injured nose. And Dean, who still smells like whiskey and dirt and sweat, in wrinkled clothes covered with dirt and grass stains and dried blood crusted under his crooked nose. But they’re kind of like a family- a strange, dysfunctional family dynamic consisting of two brothers and one best friend/boyfriend. They might look like a wreck, but they're laughing and carrying on like any other family in that local diner on the last Sunday morning in the summer of 1979. Things are definitely not perfect by any means, but it’s nothing they can’t figure out.

 


End file.
